


It's A Start

by AcidGreenFlames



Series: It's a Mage Kind of World [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood, Blood and Gore, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Lemon, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, References to Depression, Sans (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Slice of Life, death of unnamed OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidGreenFlames/pseuds/AcidGreenFlames
Summary: With the help of the mages, the monsters have reached the surface, but everything isn't as perfect as they all had hoped.Despite the scars and the nightmares, Sans has hope and he has his family. He has his mage, who loves him.In all honesty, it's a start.*Follows the Ninety-Fourth Time*
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Original Character(s)
Series: It's a Mage Kind of World [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467457
Comments: 58
Kudos: 95





	1. The Market Place

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Dear readers! 
> 
> This collection follows The Ninety-Fourth Time and happens in and around the events in The First October. (Which I am struggling with the last four chapters *sigh*) 
> 
> So enjoy some fluffy surface stories!

There were things that Sans had a hard time trying to get used to being on the surface. The space could be overwhelming, the time the sun came up was always a shock at how bright it was, and the amount of food options sometimes made Sans sick to his stomach when he thought about how they had starved in the underground. How there was just so _much _on the surface.

There were things that surprised some that did not surprise him. Not in the least. Humanities cruelty for one, how every time they turned around a new group was protesting their right to exist, how some law makers tried to create laws that would limit their ability to use magic, how they had to lock their doors at night in fear of humans.

Still, even after all that, it was better than the underground.

Now, Sans knew his mate didn’t take much stalk in Fate, didn’t believe in Fate and as such he would never admit this to her; but he thanked Fate, the Angel and all the gods he could think of that he was in a world where mages were a thing. He thanked Fate that it had been Lilith’s Den that his people found themselves under, and he thanked Fate that he had found Lilith.

In truth, had they not had the backing of a powerful and feared Den of mages, Sans wasn’t going to put much faith in humanity. Not when he saw the reports from Lilith how they had stopped a terrorist attack, the plans to bomb New New Home from some creep from out of town or heard the words that some religious fanatics spouted about them.

He read one report, that was mostly blacked out, about a scientist who tried to capture Grillby with plans to preform experiments on him. It had taken some time, but from what Sans had figured, she was somewhere in the Nether, still alive somehow, but Felix was keeping tabs on her.

Felix and Lilith had a bet on the side, Lilith figured a Wrathe would get her before starvation hit. Felix begged to differ, and that game hadn’t been called yet. If Sans was honest with himself, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the fate of the bitch who tried to hurt his friend, so long as the result ended the same way.

Cruel as they were, the mages where fierce when it came to their protection. When they reached the surface, it had been very simple for them and the people of Ebott. The monsters were staying, got a problem with that? Leave.

Very few families left, so few in fact that Sans could count on one hand the amount that had and for the most part, the people in the mage’s territory didn’t seem to mind them. It may have helped that a coven of vampires lived in Ebott as well, as did other creatures like goblins and elves and dwarfs. Monsters simply slid in next to them and so long as they stayed within The Pandora’s territory they were as safe as any human.

Outside of that territory? Well all bets were off, and Sans was not looking to send his mate off to a war she would be ready to fight because one of theirs was stupid.

Honestly, Sans was fine to stay in their territory anyways. It was large and had all they needed, why go outside of it at all? He knew that Tori wanted them to have the right to go anywhere, no different as any other creature in their world, and Sans was happy to let her fight for that, he was happy. He had what he needed. 

He held Lilith’s hand as she guided him through the early throng of people at the Mt. Ebott marketplace, giving friendly hellos and good mornings to the shop keepers and early morning shoppers. Sans grinned at her side, squeezing her hand as they drank their coffee from the independent coffee place down the road. 

“So,” he thumbed at his cup, eye-lights glancing around, and Sans pressed himself into Lilith’s side as they stepped off the curb to cross the road, “Where we going evil mage?”

She smiles down at him, it’s an easier thing in the weeks since they escaped the underground and it never fails to make Sans’ soul swell, “It’s a surprise.” She tells him, guiding him around a Fea as he flicked his delicate wings in the morning sun.

Sans hummed, and squeezed her hand, “Surprise huh?” he takes in her excited eyes and the mischievous smile and he knows she’s been waiting for this, that she’s been waiting for the right time to bring him out here.

He glances around, and smirks to himself, and knows everything about this is deliberate. Lilith knows Sans still can’t handle large crowds, so they got up early, much to Papyrus’s shock and awe, to come to the marketplace when it’s still quiet. He knows how busy the marketplace can be through the day, knows his brother loves to come down with Ryder through the day in the thick of it and talk to the people here.

Not Sans though. No, he likes things a little quieter, a little more serene. He liked it better when he could keep an eye socket out for any threat, despite knowing his mate would straight up murder anyone who tried to hurt him, this was her territory after all. Even knowing his wrist bands and shoes offer more protecting then most peoples armor did. 

Still, Lilith had gone out of her way to make sure that Sans was comfortable. Made sure that he wouldn’t get panicked and shaky and have an attack when too many people where near by. It was still hard for him, too many people around, too many people touching him that he didn’t know.

He squeezed Lilith’s hand and knew he was getting better; therapy had helped but it was still hard when he was so afraid. He cursed Oliva for what she had done to him, cursed Chara too, and he needed to remind himself that recovery was a slow thing. Well, at least Lilith would be proud of him for coming out this far from the compound, and not have a panic attack.

It was a start.

They crossed another street, his hand still in Lilith’s warm one and Sans allows himself to have this soft, happy moment with his mate. His cracked soul swells with love for her, and he happily follows her into a small store at the far end of the street and tries not to feel anxious. The last time they had such a soft moment, it had ended in him with…

Sans shuts down that line of thought and follows his mate. They’re going to have a good day, and Oliva’s memory isn’t going to ruin it for him. 

They come to a store that is so non-descript that Sans almost misses it. Whitewashed store front, with a little blue door and a faded ‘Open’ sign in the window.

Frowning as they came into the store, a little bell chimes overhead, and Sans can’t see why Lilith is so excited to be here; the store is dark and musty and smells almost like mothballs.

Still, she’s nearly bouncing on her toes in excitement, and he can feel her magic light and full of life crackle at her fingers where theirs is joined. Sans relaxes at the touch, trying not to feel anxious, and feel the love he has for the mage.

Sensing his unease, she looks down at him, her excitement fading a little, “You okay?” her voice is quiet and gentle, sometimes Sans forgets that Lilith is feared for her power.

Sans smiles as the shop keep comes through the back door, “Yeah. I’m good.” He squeezes her hand to show how good he is. He’s trying to be better for her, tying to be honest, and this is okay.

“Ah! Lilith!” a deep, smooth voice calls out, and they look to the shop keep.

Lilith grinned, still holding onto Sans’s hand she nods to him, “Akkar.” She greets warmly.

Akkar is a light elf, and Sans quickly squashes the bolt of jealousy that unexpectedly spikes. Akkar is tall, taller and slimmer than Lilith with light grey eyes and blond hair pulled into a complicated ponytail. Pale skin was stark against the darkness of the room, and he’s the kind of mate that Sans would have thought Lilith would have wanted.

He tries not too look down, feeing insecure at his own meager height and feeling doubtful at his own appearance.

Lilith squeezes Sans’s hand, and the amount of pride in her voice makes Sans smile, “This is Sans, my mate.” And his broken soul swells. He’s okay, she loves him just as much as he loves her, and he’s not in danger of being replaced.

There’s a flash of surprise on Akkar’s face, and he buries the splash of jealousy in his pale eyes and smiles at Sans. It’s not as bright when he nods towards him, “It is nice to meet you Sans.”

Sans forces himself to nod, his smile wide as he squeezes Lilith’s hand, “Like wise.”

Lilith squeezes back, hard, and its reassuring.

“Well.” If Akkar’s voice is a little cooler now, Lilith doesn’t mention it, but she stays near Sans, “Come on to the back, it’s all this way.”

With a grace that Sans could never hope to have, Akkar turns away, head high as he leads them to the back. Sans glanced up to his mate, and she warms when she smiles at him, “Come on.” She says happily.

He trusts Lilith, he trusts her with his body, his soul and his life. He can trust her with this, and he follows her into the back room and tries not to feel the insecurity that is clawing at his throat.

The back of the store is very different; it’s bright and warm. Cheery even, and along the back wall are an assortment of telescopes.

Sans feels his mouth drop open, and his eye-lights brighten in surprise and honest joy fills him, “Telescopes?”

Lilith beams at him, but it’s a fleeting thing and quickly hidden behind her neutral grin, “Yeah. I thought you’d like a new one. I know yours was broken underground, so…” 

Sans can’t help it, and he swings around to squeeze her in a tight hug, “Thanks Evil Mage.” He mutters against the crook of her neck.

Lilith snuggles into him as well, having no qualms of showing him affection when he needed it too. She noses at his vertebrae sweetly, and drops a kiss to his cheek, “You’re welcome Love.” She lets him go when he pulls away, and her grin is mischievous, “I have no idea about any of this. So, go pick out the best one.” 

He nods, and he’s suddenly just as excited as she is; he just wants to share the stars with Lilith so badly. He turns to the wall, when another willowy elf smiles pleasantly at him, her features very much like Akkar’s, “Hello.” She says, her voice like bells, “I am Aleana. Akkar’s sister.” Her teeth are too white, Sans thinks. Too perfect and she lacks the fierceness that he loves in Lilith.

He nods at her and offers a hand. When she shakes it, he cringes, but his father didn’t raise him to be rude, “Sans.” He says simply back and it’s a relief when Aleana lets his hand go.

Then they’re talking about telescopes, and Aleana is knowledgeable and helpful. She knows all the specs about each one, and its not long before Sans has picked the one he likes most, out. Aleana won’t give him the price of it, and he suspects that Lilith is being a brat and is likely spoiling him.

When he turns to tell Lilith he’s found the one he likes, he pauses with a frown and tries to drown the jealousy again. Lilith is looking at an old book, pouring over it with a smile while Akkar watches her; his face is soft and dopey, and his smile far too affectionate for simply friendship.

“He still loves her.” Aleana said quietly, her voice full of regret, “He’s loved her since the war. Akkar says she was the best platoon leader he’s ever had, but I think he loves her very deeply.” Aleana’s pale eyes shifted to him with a frown, “You are very lucky Sans. Many warriors sough one of the Pandora’s Den mages as a mate. They rebuffed most of the advances, they were not interested in anything but protecting their people. It broke many a heart, when Lilith returned to the surface with a mate.”

Sans shifted nervously, feeling awkward and out of place, like an imposter as Lilith smiles at him, “Love check it out.” Akkar cringes when she calls Sans Love, “It’s a star map. I’ve got one just like it at home. We used it in the war to travel at night, I’ll show you when we get home.”

Her smile is so bright at him, Akkar’s glower so dark and it takes effort for Sans to swallow, and try to smile, “Sounds good Evil mage, we can match up your book with what we see in the telescope.” And he feels so out of place, like he doesn’t deserve that soft look directed at him.

Lilith’s eyes are warm and full of love, and Sans feels like an imposter in her life.

-

It’s hours later, with Sans’s new telescope set up in their room and the star map open on the floor next too it but far too cloudy to see the stars.

They were stretched out on their bed, _their bed_, Sans tells himself again, and he breaths in her sweet scent.

They’re cuddling under the thick comforter, snuggling into each other and Sans is relaxed in her arms. It’s taken weeks to get to this point, were he can be held like this so softly and he’s just _happy_ to get here.

“Do you like it?” she askes, and he’s always caught off guard when Lilith sounds uncertain.

“I do.” And his soul swells with love when she looks delighted, and he just _loves_ her so deeply. He’s not a fool, he knows how lucky he was to have this. To have someone like Lilith who loves him so deeply.

Yet, there’s still that insecurity. That doubt. Why would Lilith want someone like him if she had options? He knows she loves him, but he still feels so much self doubt, his self confidence still so broken from what Oliva and Chara did to him.

“Hey Lilith?” her eyes are closed, falling asleep in his arms and soft with him, and he knows she is way out his league, “Why do you love me?”

Lilith’s eyes snap open, and fill crimson, “What?” she hisses angrily, and he flinches back, “Did someone say something?”

Sans hesitates and shakes his head no, “Well. No. It’s just.” He glances away, hesitant and doesn’t want to fuck it up, “Lilith your so pretty. You could have anyone. And, I know there are warriors who want you. So. Ya know. Why me?”

She stares at him, her eyes hard and angry for a long moment before she sighs and releases her magic. The crimson fades and her eyes soften.

“Sans.” She says carefully, her hands on his bones are so careful, nails scratching at his ribs through his t-shirt. “I love you because you’re you. Because you make me laugh, and you never wanted anything from me. You didn’t want me because I would increase your status among warriors, and you didn’t want me because it would be good for your reputation. Sans, you like me because you like _me_. Not what I could do for you, me. That is worth more then anything else. And I will love you forever for that. I love you, for you.”

Sans feels himself relaxing a little in her arms, and he gives her a wobbly smile, “I love you too.” His voice is small, like he’s afraid Fate will take her from him if he’s too loud.

Lilith grinned then, her eyes sparkling, “Besides, I think your hot.” He snorts at her words, “I do! You’ve got a cute face, sleek bones and a great little ass.”

Sans laughs. Although he still has self doubt, still doesn’t believed in himself, but Lilith does. He reaches for her, drawing her into a soft, gentle kiss and he is the one who deepens it. She opens her mouth to let him explore the velvet heat of her mouth, his hands so, so gentle on her body as his tongue rolls over hers. It’s the most they’ve ever done, but it’s perfect and sweet, and Sans’s soul swells with love for the mage in his arms.

He breaks their kiss to tell her, “Pretty sure you’re the hot one Evil mage.” He pants against her soft lips.

Lilith laughs softly against his teeth, “Debatable.” She says softly before drawing him into another kiss.

Sans doesn’t believe in himself, not yet, but Lilith does. For now, that’ll have to be enough. 


	2. The Museum Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is on a school trip to the museum with Frisk, but sometimes its hard to be on the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there is a description of the start of a panic attack at the beginning of this chapter, but I promise it ends in fluff. :)

Sans clings tightly to Frisk’s hand, maybe a little too tightly if he’s being honest with himself, but it’s the first time he’s left the compound without Lilith. He wants to do her proud, he doesn’t want to have to rely on her the whole time when he’s feeling uncertain or nervous.

He wants her to be proud of him, even when he’s feeling like shit.

He cringes as a large human brushed up against him and tries not to let it show. He’s been doing better, he knows he has been and his therapist, Dr. Tracy thinks so as well. She had been the one to encourage him first to go on this stupid little field trip with Frisk’s school before Lilith had even heard about it. She thought it would be a good, gentle event to push himself just a little to see how far he could go, and if he couldn’t handle it, well he could always short cut home couldn’t he?

Yet, the thought of disappointing his mate kept him at the museum despite how his soul filled with anxiety. How it sometimes felt like the walls were closing in on him and there were too many people, and…

Frisk was dragging him out of the main room and into the quieter area of the gift shop. It was a school day, so the museum was emptier, only filled with school groups and retiaries, but the area with the dinosaurs was fuller than the other areas of the museum. 

He takes a breath, able to breath a little easier now that he wasn’t pressed between Frisk and another adult that he didn’t know, and he felt his anxiety ease a little. He glanced out into the main area where the school children were milling around and staring at bones and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Toriel smiling at her school group.

It was okay, he was okay. He was only at a field trip at a museum, nothing more. Nothing here would hurt him.

He squeezed Frisk’s hand again when he saw Asriel, following his mother and smiling with the other children; Sans fought the wave of nausea that rolled through him and swallowed thickly.

He still hadn’t spoken much to the returned Prince since the underground, he had dismissed him as much as possible when everything that happened underground went down and honestly, he didn’t want that confrontation to happen here. No, he was here for Frisk and what he didn’t want was to ruin it by having a panic attack in a fucking gift shop. 

Glancing out in the main area, Frisk frowned when she saw Asriel and she drew Sans further into the gift shop and behind the clothing racks.

_“You okay Sans?” _her hands were slow and careful, allowing his rattled mind to keep up.

He plastered on his usual grin, and gave her a nod, “Don’t worry about me kid, I’m fine.”

That only made Frisk frown more, “_You sure? You wanna go home? You didn’t even make that a pun.” _

Crap. He always forgot how astute Frisk was. How easily it was for her to see through his bull shit, too much like her older sister, “I’m fine kiddo. I just need a sec.” and it’s partly true. “I’m gonna take a break for a few, maybe find something for your sister. Why don’t you go find your friends and I’ll be out in a bit?”

Frisk gives him a calculating look. Like she’s trying to decide between leaving him alone and staying with him, weighting what he needs the most. Slowly, Frisk nods, understanding far too much for someone so young and knows that sometimes, Sans just needs a bit of time to himself. Not much time has passed since they all escaped the underground, weeks at best and Sans was still adjusting.

_“I won’t be far.” _She signs at him, her hands slow and her shoulders pushed back as if she was facing a challenge, “_If you’re not back in twenty, I’m calling Lilith.” _She tells him, and that’s a fair compromise that has Sans nodding.

Frisk gives his hand one last squeeze, then she disappears back out into the main floor of the museum to gush over dinosaur bones with her friends. It gives Sans a moment to take a breath and breathe slowly, re-centring himself. He’s doing well, he tells himself. These things take time and it’s not going to happen all at once. Even if he goes home now, Lilith will still be proud of him.

The shop keep gives him an odd, suspicious look and Sans feels his anxiety ratcheting up again. He gives the man a disarming smile and starts to go through the shirts, pretending he has any intention to buy one. He just needs a few minutes to relax, he wants to finish out the day. He does, and he wants to do it without having a fucking breakdown.

He can do it, he’s sure.

Focusing on his breathing, slowly in and out, counting out each breath, Sans pauses at a white shirt and bursts out laughing. It’s not a particularly funny shirt, or at least not to most but Sans can’t help but find it funny.

Pulling it off the hanger, he knows Lilith will get a kick out of it too and its enough a distraction to help settle the unease twisting at his soul, easing the heavy feeling in his chest. The sweat bands at his wrists humm happily and he can feel Lilith’s magic, and that sweet pressure is enough to help unwind the last of his anxiety from his soul as he swaggers up to the cash register.

Feeling giddy, Sans realizes this is the first gift he’s gotten for Lilith and he hopes she finds it as funny as he does.

-

It’s later at night, Frisk has been tucked into bed when Felix and Lilith finally come home. They both look a little worse for wear, tired and battle weary, but she still smiles sweetly at him when she comes into their shared room.

With a soft noise that only he gets to hear, a softness from her that only he gets to see, Lilith crawls into bed next to him and snuggles into his side. She presses her nose against his vertebra and nuzzles in, “How was the museum?” 

“Was good.” His arms go around her, and he presses his teeth to the side of her head, “How was Old Town?”

Lilith sighs and pressed her forehead to Sans’s. “Awful.” She admits, “The town borders Hollindale, probably one of the most anti-mage and anti-monster towns near us.”

She snuggles deeper into their embrace, and Sans greedily accepts all the affection from her, “The protesters haven’t crossed into our territory, they’re not that stupid but the Coven’s council is taking it seriously. They’ve sent support from a few of the larger Dens so we can rest. I’ll have to go back tomorrow though.”

Sans nods again, and he gets it. He does. Lilith has a job, and it’s to protect her territory and the people in it. Old Town had tried to deal with the anti monster protesters early on, but things had gotten out of hand, and when people had been hurt the Den had no choice but to dispatch its battle mages.

“It looks like I’ll have the weekend though.” She sounds tired and needs to sleep. Instead she asks again, “How was the museum?” and he knows she’s really asking how he handled it.

Sans grins and thinks about the shirt that’s hidden under the bed, “Good.” He gives her a little shrug, “I had a bit of a moment. But Frisk got me some place quiet to chill, was fine after.” There was no point in hiding the unpleasant truth, Lilith would find out anyways.

“That’s great Sans.” And fuck if she doesn’t sound so proud of him, like what he had done was anything special. He had only managed to _not_ have a panic attack. She still sounds so pleased, “I’m so proud of you.” She sits up to kiss his cheek again, and he soaks up the affection like a dying plant getting water.

“Got ya something too.” He says quietly, suddenly stupidly emberressed and he can’t say why.

Lilith gives him a surprised look, her mouth already forming words to say he didn’t have to, so he quickly reaches under the bed to pull out the crumpled bag and thrust it at her chest. “I know I didn’t need to.” He mutters and feels stupid as his face heats, “I thought you’d find it funny.” He can feel his face blush with uncertainty.

She blinks at him slowly, taking the bag and drawing it to her chest before she slowly says, “Thank you.” And Sans is reminded that Lilith has a hard time at this too. That she’s never had a partner like him, a soft relationship, a steady relationship that wasn’t just a desperate need to find release or stress relief.

This maybe the first gift she has gotten, and suddenly Sans thinks it might be too little. That he should have planned better for it, and really thought of something special for her.

Looking down with a sudden dread, Sans thinks its too little, too late and he can only hope that Lilith doesn’t hate it.

She pulls open the bag, and it crinkles in her hands as she pulls out the t-shirt to read the front if it. He can see her eyes flick over the bold, black letters and glance down at the picture. Her smile is a slow creep as she begins to get the jokes that is really only applicable to her and maybe Ryder.

She turns the shirt around, looking delighted in a way that tells Sans that he was right with the gift. The white shirt says ‘I Dig Bones’ in thick black letters, and under the wording is a simplified, cartoon brontosaurus skeleton.

“Babe. This is the funniest thing ever.” Her sleepy delight is enough to sooth Sans’ worry, and he returns her soft grin.

“Oh good. At least I’m still punny as heck.” His grin is a little easier, his worry a little less.

Lilith, smiles softly at him and takes him by the shoulders to draw him in for a soft kiss, “You’re the punniest skeleton I know.”

His retort dies a good death as she presses her mouth to his, soft and inviting, and Sans melts into her touch. The kiss is soft and chaste, the sweetness making Sans’s head spin and his soul swell. Shifting closer, he presses into her soft touch, and is relieved when her hands don’t wander. Instead, they stay on his shoulders as she scratches at his scapula sweetly.

When they break apart, they’re both panting and smiling stupidly at each other.

“Thank you, Sans.” She tells him softly, “I love it.”

“You’re welcome.” He has no right to feel as bashful as he does, but it’s the first time he’s given a gift to a lover and meant it. The fact she likes it so much means far more then he’s willing to admit.

“I’m so wearing it tomorrow under my armor.” She smiles at him, and draws Sans in for another soft, sweet kiss.

His eyes flutter close, and Sans moans into the kiss, happy that he had picked the right gift for his mate.

“I love you.” He muttered against her mouth, and when Lilith smiled back, Sans knew she loved him too.

The feeling swelled, and Sans could only sigh softly into their next kiss.


	3. Therapy Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going to therapy can be hard, but Sans is determined to stick with it. Even when it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Descriptions of depression and heavier themes. This chapter starts to deal with the fall out from chapter 15 in The Ninety Fourth Time, after Sans was raped. There is nothing graphic in this chapter, but it is mentioned and discussed. Takes care of yourselves! 
> 
> On a side note, I've written my first smut chapter in ages! So, yay?

It was raining, because of course it was. It always seemed to rain on days like this, when you were feeling poorly and sad, and _angry._ So much anger that Sans wasn’t entirely sure what to do with. Everything that had happened, it wasn’t fair. Everything that had been done to him, what had happened to him, it wasn’t fair, and he was just _so angry_.

He kept quiet in the passenger seat of Lilith’s jeep, it was raining so hard that it was coming down sideways, creating a white wave over the wind shield of her jeep. Sans focused on the rhythmic _swoosh-swoosh-swoosh_ of the wipers, and their quick flashes over the glass.

It was easier to focus on that then the hurt and fury and pain in his soul. Things he didn’t want to think about, things he just wanted to bury under a layer of indifference and forget about.

_Forget about the resets. Forget about Chara. Forget about Olivia and her betrayal. _

Things never quite stayed buried, though.

He swallowed hard and tried to not feel the anxiety that was creeping up like bile at the back of his throat. The shame that he, _The Judge_ allowed these things to happen to him, and he fought those feelings back.

Dr. Tracy told him to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t bring this on himself, he didn’t _let _this happen. He couldn’t control the actions of others, but he could control his own. He could control how he thought about the situation, what he thought about situation.

He could control what he did now, like training with Lilith and Felix to keep his skills sharp. Just in case.

Besides, training with the battle mages made him feel better, feel in control about things and remind him that he could handle himself. That what happened underground didn’t define him and he wasn’t weak.

Sans took a shaky breath and leaned against the door of the jeep, his hood pulled up and his skull against the glass. His eye-lights where dull and diffused as he watched the world go by, his new prescription pulled tightly to his chest as he held on with a white knuckled grip.

They’d been on the surface for almost three months, and Sans had been in intense therapy for two. He hadn’t liked it, not at first, and he had hated going to see Dr. Tracy. He stuck with it, for Papyrus and Lilith mostly, they both looked so fucking happy to see him trying and he hadn’t wanted to disappoint them.

As it progressed, it got easier in a way, until he was going four times a week for fifty-minute sessions. He was doing better, _he was_, today was just a particularly bad day. Sans couldn’t say why, why he was hurting so much today. Why he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with Olivia and Flowey, and that he was just so angry that Asriel doesn’t have to deal with the consequences. That Sans was left to deal with the fall out of actions that were not his.

It all came out in his session today. All of it. All his anger and hurt, and he told Dr. Tracy for the first time what his base line usually felt like. That the world was numb and grey and awful. That everything was just always pain. That he was so full of _shame _and anxiety.

It had been a breakthrough, he guessed. He felt tired but better after telling her everything, it was almost cathartic, and it left him emotionally exhausted.

Dr. Tracy wanted to try him on an anti-depressant, thought it would help him and wanted to start him on a low dose to see if it would help.

Lilith pulled into the parking lot of the pharmacy, and glanced to him, her face carefully neutral, “You want me to go in?”

Sans nodded, quietly handing the prescription to his mate, still not ready to talk to her and Lilith never pushed. She drove him to every session, not once complained and never tried to pry for information. She left it up to him if he wanted to talk to her, and he never did.

Taking the prescription, Lilith slipped out of the jeep and traced to the front of the pharmacy and Sans watched her go. Maybe he should talk to her, maybe he was ready to.

She was back a few minutes later, tracing back to the door of the jeep so she didn’t have to run through the parking lot in the rain and was back in the jeep quickly. Sans took the small paper bag and crushed it to his chest quietly, still not ready to talk to her or even look at her.

He wanted to go home and nap. Hell, he’d already ripped the band aid off, maybe he’d just talk to Lilith.

She had a paper in her hands, wet from the rain, and she frowned at it as her eyes flicked over the words, “Sans.” She said his name slowly, and he titled his head toward her to indicate he was listening, “I.” she paused glanced to him worriedly, “This is information on the medication Dr. Tracy prescribed. I don’t. I don’t get half of what these side effects are or what it means.”

She glances back at the paper, and he can practically taste her worry, “Can I share this with Lola? I would feel better if she sees this.”

Sans feels his soul clench at the thought. He doesn’t want other people to know he’s sick like this, that he’s depressed and hurt, but he takes a breath. He thinks about it, and he knows Lilith wouldn’t ask if she wasn’t worried. That Lilith’s Den was his Den, her family was his as far as they were concerned.

Den mates didn’t keep secrets from each other, but she would be willing to keep his if he asked.

“Okay.” He whispers in the end. He has a support system here, with Lilith and their Den, he only just needs to reach out to them.

He does feel better to know that Lola will see what he’s on as well, even if he doesn’t say it.

Lilith looks relieved and she nods, “Thanks love.”

He nods back at her before pressing his skull back against the cold glass and feels a bit better when he hears his pet name. It’s a reassurance if nothing else, that Lilith still loves him. That she doesn’t hate him, doesn’t see him as less.

Doesn’t see him as the filth that he sometimes feels like.

Lilith puts the jeep back into gear and takes them home.

-

Sans short cuts up stairs the moment the jeep pulls into the garage, he isn’t ready to face the Den yet; not even his brother or Undyne. No, he needs some time to himself, in his room away from everyone.

He needs some time, so he lays in the bed that he shares with Lilith, her star maps pulled to his chest because it makes him feel better to have some part of her there and his telescope at his back. He closes his eyes and breaths slowly, deeply, re-centering himself for when Lilith comes to check on him. She will, its part of the routine now, only Sans wants to talk to her when she does. He wants to be ready when she comes up.

It’s a long time before Lilith comes to check in on him, and Sans is grateful that she gave him the space and time to get himself back onto even ground.

He glanced up at Lilith when he heard her come into the room, the door clicking shut behind her, and the smile she offers is soft, “Hey. You okay?”

It’s automatic to nod yes, to deny that he’s anything but fine, but he pauses and give her a little seesaw motion with his hand, and it’s the first time he’s honest with how he’s been feeling. It gives Lilith a moment to pause, her head tilting to the side and she held her breath a moment.

“You, wanna talk about it Sans?” the question is slow and hesitant.

Sans squeezed her star map to his chest, and he nodded slowly, “Yeah.” His voice was rough and quiet, and it has Lilith crossing the room to him quick enough that Sans would have been forgiven to think she had traced there.

Reaching out to her, Sans hooked his fingers into her shirt, the one he bought her from the museum and tugged Lilith into the bed with him. She came willingly, not fighting him as she crawled into bed and under the protection of their blankets.

She lay back so that Sans could bury his head into her bottom ribs, her arms around him and the star map still tight in his arms between them. One of her hands fell to the back of his skull, the other to his back so she could rub his spine in slow, even strokes and it helps him relax into her body a little more.

It helps to not have to look at her when he starts to talk. His words are low and rough, torn from him like a rib being ripped out of his ribcage. Sans tells her, tells her how he feels. He tells her about how some days he chokes on shame and how he blames himself. He tells her about his anxiety, how some days he feels like he’s drowning in feelings of being worthless and inadequate. He tells her that he should have been able to stop it from happening.

Not only the rape, but the torture and the resets. He should have been able to stop it all from happening and he blamed himself for it all.

Lilith’s hand goes still on his back, and he can feel her fury in her magic, can hear her heart rate speed up and can hear her grind her teeth together as her vice spikes through her soul and her LV pushes her towards the killing edge. For a moment, Sans thinks she’s mad at him, that she blames him for everything, and he braces for the blame. He feels stupid as soon as he does, he should know better than that.

Then Lilith takes a deep breath, and he hears her heart rate slow, her magic relaxes around them and her hand continues to stroke at his spine. “It wasn’t your fault.” Is the first thing she says to him when her anger cools, “It wasn’t your fault Sans.” And it’s a relief when he hears it, and Sans doesn’t realize how much he needed to hear that from her.

“I know.” His voice is thick, “But it’s hard to believe it, and I’m trying.”

She hugs him close to her body, “I know you are, and I’m so proud of you.”

That makes him feel weird, feel like he really hasn’t done anything to earn her pride, “Shouldn’t be.” he mutters.

Lilith pulls him up a bit further so that his face is pressed into the crook her neck and she can drop a kiss to the top of his skull, “But I am, and I should be. This is hard Sans, talking about what happened and not blaming yourself is hard. Recovery takes work, and your trying so hard. You’re doing so well.”

Sans squeezes Lilith a little harder, his voice a little thicker, “Okay.”

Lilith nods against his skull, her voice is as thick as his but neither of them make mention of it, “Can I do anything? To help? Do you. What do you need?”

Sans shrugs, feeling raw and vulnerable, “I dunno.” He admits.

Lilith gives him another tight squeeze, “Just let me know what you need. Just know I’m here for you Sans. Whatever you need.” She pauses, before adding, “I believe you Sans and I know it wasn’t your fault, okay?”

Sans nods, and he relaxes in small increments as he settles down. He’s safe here, in this room, in the bed he shares with his mate. It’s a safe space that he can be honest, with himself and Lilith, and he is.

“It’s the shame that gets me the most.” He mutters against her, and Lilith nods. “It’s how much I hate myself, how. Bad I feel about myself.”

Lilith nods, and he can hear her swallow hard, but she doesn’t give him pity, doesn’t pity him and it makes it easier to talk to her. She wishes she could say she understands, she doesn’t. Hasn’t in a long, long time. It had been different for her, but she knows she can be there for him.

“I’m trying to do better.”

Lilith nods and drops another kiss to the top if his skull, knowing how affection starved, how touch starved he is, and Lilith is happy to give him all the affection he needed. She would offer and give him as much he wanted, touch him in anyway he wanted.

“And I’m so proud of you. So proud Sans and I’ll tell you how wonderful you are until you believe me.” She picked up one of his hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “I love you.” She murmured against his bones. 

He believes her, he believes Lilith when she tells him that she loves him and tries to believe her when she tells him that he’s wonderful and wanted. He tries to and is determined to do better for himself and for his family.

He pushes himself up, buries the self hatred in his soul and reminds himself that he’s worth it. That people love him, that Lilith and Papyrus love him. “I love you too.” He muttered and leaned down to press a kiss to Lilith’s mouth.

Lilith reached up to cup his face gently, and Sans sighs into their soft, gentle kiss. His mouth moved against Lilith’s, soft and sweet and when she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, to invite him to explore, he does. His tongue curls against hers softly, tasting his mate’s sweet mouth, her kiss velvety and honied.

When he drew away, Lilith didn’t try to stop him, but she held him when he pressed his forehead against hers and he sighs softly.

He feels better, like there might be light at the end of the horrifying tunnel he’s found himself in. The road to recovery is long and hard, but Sans finally feels like he can make it though. Believes in himself enough to know he will.

He isn’t foolish to think that there won’t be bad days, there will be. He knows recovery is a long, hard road but it doesn’t seem to be as daunting anymore. He has a support system, a powerful one that is his safety net; and they _believe _him.

Sans smiles, his mouth pressed to Lilith’s throat for another kiss before he cuddles into her, “Wanna have a nap?” he askes her and he swallows nervously, “Maybe go for a walk later?”

Lilith kiss him again, “Yeah. I know an easy trail we can walk.”

“I’d like that.” He yawns and settles against his mate a little more thoroughly. He hasn’t been rejected, if anything he’s been embraced, and he feels better for it. Loved, and knows that this won’t define him.

His people have him, and they’ll have his back. They believe him, and they love him still; they think he’s worth going to war for, that he’s worth loving.

Maybe Dr. Tracy is right. He’s not dirty, he’s not filthy, and what happened wasn’t his fault.

Settling down for a nap with Lilith, Sans feels lighter, better than he had in years and had hope for something better. He was loved, and he loved. 

Everything was going to be alright.


	4. The Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith isn't as okay as they all think she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waring: panic attack

It had started off as such a normal day.

It was a cool fall day, but the sun was high, and the leaves were in the thick of changing colors and it had been the first time Sans saw the changing of leaves, the bright warm colors of fall.

The moment fall had rolled around, Lilith had gushed about pumpkin spice everything, and this had been easily their third tip into town for the only thing Lilith had decided to drink for a month and was ready to fight anyone who dare mock her.

It honestly did start as a normal day, the kind of day that Lilith and Sans had lived every day since coming to the surface. They had breakfast with the Den, saw Frisk off to school, discussed the issues in their territory and who was tackling what problem.

Since coming to the surface, Lilith seemed to be getting the easier issues, things that would have taken only part of the day to fix rather then the whole day, never taking her far from home unless absolutely necessary, and Sans suspects that it has to do with their new relationship.

Sans was grateful, he was. He knew that eventually she would be called away to the real challenges of protecting their territory, but until then, Sans was going to enjoy every moment with his mate. Every stolen minute, every soft touch and he was greedy enough to take it all without questioning who was suffering because he was taking her time. 

They had been in town when it happened. They had gone to their favorite coffee place, getting some kind of pumpkin spice something or other; a little bakery that hand made French Macaroons fresh every morning when they passed a span of a wall that had once been covered in graffiti.

The mages had funded an art project from one of the local high schools to paint a mural on the wall, something bright and cherrful. Something about the importance of community, something monster inclusive.

The students had prepped the wall, cleaned it up and painted their new canvas white, blocking out the area that the mural would go on.

It had been an innocent thing really, they had just been walking by, holding hands and laughing, telling each other the worse puns they could think of when Lilith’s hand suddenly tightened on his own to the point of being painful.

Sans looked up, confused and frowned up at his mate, “Evil mage?”

His soul sunk at the look on her face, pale and afraid as she stared at the white wall. Her hand trembled as it squeezed his painfully, the other curled tightly around the paper cup as she swallowed hard. There was no magic humming through her body, her eyes were dark with the lack of it.

“Lilith?” he questioned her softly, giving her hand a hard squeeze that she didn’t flinch at.

Tears filled her eyes, and her chest hitched as she stared at the wide, white wall.

When the first tear rolled down her cheek, alarm spiked in Sans’s soul, and his eyes widened. It was an odd thing to see Lilith vulnerable, to see her afraid especially in public.

That was the only way Sans could describe the look on her face, utter fear and panic. Sans’s own eyes widened, his eye-lights constricting to a pin pricks in worry. He patted her lower back as passers by began to take notice of Death standing still and afraid in the middle of the street.

“Lilith?” his whispered to her, tugging on the waste band of her pants, “Lilith what’s wrong?”

Her chest hitched again, and Sans could see her knees shaking, and he knew someone who was about to pass out when he saw it. He had just never expected it form Lilith.

“Lilith?” he glanced around, saw an elf and a fey stop and stare at her, the elf whispering behind her hands to her friend.

Welp, it was time to get outta dodge. Lilith’s territory might have been safe and well defended, but she still had enemies. Enemies who might think she was an easy target if she was having a panic attack. 

Sans knew that’s what this was, had enough himself to know the signs of one and when Lilith started having trouble breathing, Sans knew he had to get her someplace safe.

As the second tear fell from her dark eyes, Sans short cutted home.

-

They landed in their room and the moment Lilith’s feet touched the floor, she crumpled to the carpeted floor with a broken sob.

Her coffee fell to the floor, staining the carpet as it leaked out as Lilith’s fingers suddenly dug into her hair, nails scraping at her sculp.

Worry gnawed at his soul and his eyes widened at seeing his big, bad battle mage mate crumple and he was at her side in an instant. “Hey. Hey Lil. It’s okay.”

She sobbed into her thighs as she curled into a trembling ball, pressing her head between her knees. For a moment, Sans panicked. He didn’t know what to do, how to help her and felt as helpless as he ever had.

He swallowed it back, forced down his own worry and pulled Lilith to his chest where she went limp against him, “You’re okay.” He whispered, rubbing her back softly. “I got you. You’re okay.”

Lilith anchored herself to him, clinging to his t-shirt tightly, her head buried into his chest as she shook. Sans squeezes her back just as tightly, and he held her.

It was a rare thing, for Lilith to be the one who was hurting and vulnerable, but there was no way in hell that Sans was going to let her flounder.

“I’ve got you. Your safe Evil Mage, I’ve got you.” He whispered to her, rocking them softly as he pet her hair. “I’ve got you.” He promised, “Nothing bad will happen. I won’t let anything hurt you Lilith. I promise.”

It’s a promise Sans intends to keep, and magic sparks at his fingers. He doesn’t know what has set this off, but he’ll be damned if he lets Lilith suffer alone. He holds her tighter, offering soft words of love and safety. Of the protection that he knows he has the power to offer.

His mate is afraid, and anything he’s done to Chara in the past will be child’s play to what he will do to any threat that dare try to harm her.

His eye lights fade, but his voice is soft even as his eye erupts into blue and gold magic, “I’ve got you Lil. I got you. I love you.” He whispers, even as she sobs. “I’ve got you, and I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Magic fills him, and Sans will murder anyone who dares to harm his mate. Its rare thing for him to find the motivation to dig into his deep well of magic, but when he does nothing will stop Sans from doing what needs to be done.

Lilith sobs harder into his chest, and Sans holds her tightly. “I’ve got you Lilith. I’m here.”

-

It’s a long time before Lilith’s sobbing fades to distant hiccups and her body go limp in his hold. It’s even longer before Lilith can get to her feet, and it’s only with Sans’s help that she can get to the bed. Even then, as they lay in their bed, arguably the safest place in the world to be, it takes Lilith time to stop shaking.

She clings to Sans for a long time, her head in his chest and buried in his ribs as she focuses on breathing.

“Sorry.” She eventually mutters into his sweater, soft and hurt, and Sans is sure he has never heard her so raw before.

Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, Sans shakes his own and cuddles her against him, “S’okay. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Lilith sniffs softly, moping her tear stained face with the sleeve of her jacket, “I don’t know what happened. I just. I felt sick. Like. I don’t know.”

Sans nodded, trying to understand, trying to figure out what caused this. He clung to her a little tighter before something clicked, “It’s the void.”

He felt Lilith shiver, her face buried into his chest, “I don’t remember much from the void.” Her voice was soft and thick, “Something’s blocking the memories. But I remember feeling alone. And afraid. Like I was lost and was never going home.”

Her voice wobbles, and Sans squeezes her tighter, and his soul hurts.

“I was alone.” She whispers like she’s afraid and Sans doesn’t like to hear that from her. Lilith isn’t afraid, she’s a dangerous, vicious crazy battle mage who isn’t afraid of anything, “I was afraid.”

Sans thinks of the void, the blank nothingness, and Lilith trapped inside of it for four months.

He squeezes her tightly and thinks of the white wall that the art students are about to paint. The sooner the better Sans thinks.

He pets the back of her neck, his fingers cool on her skin, “I know you were.” He tells her quietly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Lilith hiccups softly, tasting bile at the back of her mouth and the feeling of nothingness, of hopelessness fills her. She drowns in it, suffocates with it and she clings to the monster she loves as tightly as she can.

Sans holds her tightly, pressing a kiss to the to of her head and keeps whispering that she’s going to be okay. That he has her, and that nothing bad will happen.

Lilith clings back and thinks maybe one day she’ll tell him more about the thin man in the void, the monster that maybe Sans’s father. The one she is certain means them no harm if only she can remember. Instead, she clings to Sans and pushes the memories away, and allows herself to get lost in the feeling of his love. Of the feeling of being in his arms.

Lilith was safe here with Sans, in their room and right now, Sans had her.

Sans had her and he loved her, and that would be enough to fight off the coming nightmares and the feeling of hopelessness.

Sans had her, and she wasn’t too proud to allow this moment of weakness and allowed the monster she loved to take care of her.

It was a weird feeling, to be taken care of for once but with Sans if felt right. Normal. Like they were meant to be, the two weird pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly.

Lilith relaxed in his arms, and enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her, letting it wash away the fear with his love. He had her, and Lilith trusted Sans enough to know he wouldn’t let anything hurt her.

With a sigh, Lilith relaxed and surrendered to her exhaustion and passed out.

Sans curled around her, magic humming through is bones as he squeezed his mate to his chest, vowing that nothing would hurt her. Not now, not when he was here to protect her.

“I love you Lilith.” He whispered to her, standing guard over her battered soul and he let her rest.

They’d have a better day tomorrow.


	5. Soul Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is due for a healing session for his soul, and Lilith is always happy to give up some magic for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers, 
> 
> I've been busy! I finished the October Prompts List, I've finished all the chapters of this story, planned the chapters for the next one, picked my prompts for the 12 days of Christmas AND had some inspiration hit to wright the first part of the fourth arch in this series! Some good things coming that I hope your all enjoy. :)

Heaving a soft sigh, Sans rubs at his chest and his soul ache’s behind his ribs. He feels tired and drained, and Sans knows its time for another healing session.

They don’t talk about it, he and Lilith, outside of when he needed it. When his soul drained enough magic that kept his body together that he was feeling sluggish and sick. He felt tired, more so then usual and he knew it was time for another session.

His soul aching, Sans eased himself into the chair at the kitchen table and the bright, warm sun shone mockingly through the kitchen window.

The temperature was just starting to change, it was getting cooler in the night and the days were getting shorter much to Sans dismay. The sun, Sans had come to realize, was one of the best parts of the surface and it was mocking him with how warm and sunny it was outside when he was feeling so poorly.

With his head in his hands, Sans tried not to let the feeling of sickness and hurt get the better of him and ruin this sunny day.

Lilith drifted into the kitchen, her usual neutral face brightened at the sight of him, and sometimes Sans can’t believe that he can cause anyone to look at him like that. “Hey Love.” She told him gently, and her smile fell when she saw his pale bones and his heartsick look, “Everything okay Sans?”

He sighed and sunk down to the table, his arms folded under his head and he gave her a little shrug, “Not feeling great.” He grumbled lowly, white eye-lights glancing to the bright sun outside the window.

Lilith glances to the window and back to Sans, shifting nervously on the balls of her feet, “How’s your soul feeling?” she asked him gently.

Sans shrugged, dim eye-lights still watching the sunshine outside, “Sucks.” He muttered to her, and Lilith can feel her own soul ache.

She glanced to the window and the bright sun that shone into the green grass and she could see the smooth water from the lake, “Do you want a healing session?”

Sans snorted, glaring hard, “I want to go outside.” He couldn’t help but feel bitter about how damaged his soul was. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it.

Lilith glanced out the window again, and grinned, “Hey love, come on. I’ve got an idea.” She held her hand out to him in offering. There was a lot Lilith couldn’t do for Sans, but this was something she could.

Exhausted, Sans lifted his head and dully looked at Lilith’s offered hand and her gentle smile. Slowly, he put his hand into hers, and allowed her to pull him to his feet to drag him outside.

The sun was warm and bright overhead, and it had Sans squinting in the bright light as Lilith guided him past the lake and into the forest, “Where are we going Lili?”

His mate glanced back at him with a soft smile, “You’ll see love. It’s not far.”

Sans shrugged, feeling too tired than to do anything other then to follow her along and felt grateful when their walk had been very short.

The clearing was bright, like something out of one of Frisk’s story books. The meadow too green, the flowers too bright and Sans couldn’t help but wonder if something _else_ lived here. Sans knew he should be worried about what that something could be, but trust’s Lilith enough to know she wouldn’t bring him any where dangerous.

Instead of asking, Sans quietly let Lilith draw him into the cool grass and into the middle of the meadow. With a gentle smile, Lilith sat, drawing Sans down next to her, keeping their hands linked tightly. “How’s your soul feeling?” Lilith tried again, keeping her tone soothing to gentle him.

It had his hackles up almost instantly, and he gave her a flat look, “Fine.”

The snot that answered was harsh and disbelieving, “Sans.” Her voice was almost guttural and annoyed as she gave him a piercing look, “We don’t lie to each other.”

His eyes narrowed for a long moment before he huffed at her. His voice was tight, and he fought to keep it neutral, “It’s fine.”

Lilith hummed, her eyes turning crimson and her mouth pulled into a flat line, “Sans, your soul is cracked.” And he flinches at how plainly she says it, but he’s starting to get used to that.

His face heats and his skull flashes blue, and his teeth clench hard enough that he can almost taste the dust, “I’m fine.” 

Lilith could see him clamming up, shutting down and shutting her out and Lilith cursed herself for her stupidity. She knew better, she knew how Sans would react when she pushed too hard. Taking a breath, slow and deep, Lilith nudged him gently, “Come on, lay in the sun with me.”

Teeth clenched, staring off into the too bright green grass, Sans shrugged and allowed Lilith to nudge him back into the grass. Laying opposite to him, Lilith lay her head on the broad part of his shoulder and she nestled his skull against her own. 

They lay there, for a time, nestled into each other softly but Sans was still too tense, feeling too sick and his soul throbbed. Silently he cursed what Oliva had done to him, hated what she had done to him and that she had damaged him like this.

He hated that she had left a mark on him like this.

Lilith sighed softly, struggling to keep her temper under wraps, her frustrations, “Sans. It’s okay, but you can’t pretend everything is fine.”

Sans clenches his teeth, bright eye-lights drawn down and his body drawn tight, and he couldn’t answer her. The clouds floated softly by, fat and fluffy, soft and mocking at how shit Sans felt like.

Still, he tried. Tried to relax, tried to soften in cool fall sunlight.

It doesn’t help, he still feels distraught and hurt, and he can’t seem to temper down his feelings into something other than anger.

He feels Lilith roll over, easing his skull into the grass so that she could lean over him to take up his field of view, and used the back of her fingers to pet his cheek bone, “Sans, how does your soul feel?”

Heaving a sigh, he pressed his face into her fingers, “Hurts.” He grumbled softly, eyes slipping shut and enjoyed the feeling of Lilith touching him gently. It was easier to tell her the truth when she touched him softly.

Lilith leans forward to kiss him, knowing that it was all that she was going to manage for now, but her goal was his soul and a healing session. She kissed him softly, slowly and deeply, and Lilith knows that if Sans says that he hurts, he’s in agony. Too stubborn to admit that he was hurting and ask for something to make it better.

She breaks their kiss, and she drops another between Sans’s sockets, her lips brushing against the smooth bones, “Let me see your soul love.”

Sans goes stiff again, and he clenches his teeth again, “We’re out in the open.” He whispers, and when Lilith kisses him again, she can taste his fear.

“We’re in the forest by the compound, in a meadow blessed by forest spirits and nymphs. No one will hurt us here.” Its reassuring and gentle.

Lilith pushes herself up a little taller so she can look at him, and when Sans looks up at her, he looks exhausted, “No one will hurt you Sans.” And he knows that it’s the truth.

Shoulders still hunched, Sans tries not to feel small and uncertain when he summons his soul; it’s still dim and cold, and there’s still the big ugly crack. The small wounds have almost healed completely, leaving his soul scarred and calloused, but Lilith still looks at him like he’s not tainted.

Her fingers brush at his cheek again with another soft kiss, before she moved to lay over him and summoned her soul. Its bright crimson and lush with magic, and the warmth washes over Sans that helps him relax.

This is not the first time they’ve done this, not even the second or third time and he tries to relax into the experience. This was Lilith, his date mate and the women who walked through hell to get to him. Who squared up with a demon, for him.

Sans reaches up to Lilith, pulling her down hard and pressed his soul into hers. He stretched upwards to press his teeth to her mouth, drawing her into a soft kiss. Their souls meshed and he slowly drew magic from her.

Her tongue brushed at his teeth and he parted them without hesitation, allowing himself to be drawn into the deep, soft kiss. Sighing into the kiss, Sans slowly relaxed into the cool grass at his back, enjoyed the bright sun over head and relished in the feeling of his mate’s body pressed into his own.

His bones heated, his joints felt too warm and a tightness of magic swirled in his pelvic inlet. Despite how his body reacted, Sans wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy, not yet; but as he eased under Lilith’s muscular body, he thinks he might be ready to want it soon.

For now, he draws in Lilith’s magic and savors the taste of her warm mouth and velvet kisses.


	6. Aborted Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel tries to talk to Sans. It doesn't go so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *puts up a shield* Well, at long last Sans and Toriel are going to have a chat. There is reference to another chapter in That First October: 2019 Prompts when Sans spoke to Asgore. If you would like to catch up on that one, its chapter 11: Angst. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Sans shifts awkwardly, remembering the time he had been in this exact same position with Asgore, but he doesn’t feel the anger here. Not that white, hot fury that had made him snap at Asgore, but something deeper. A hurt that made Sans’s soul ache, and he reminds himself that in this timeline, he and Toriel are not good friends.

Not like the other failed timelines, when Chara and Flowey had won. Not like when he had never met Lilith and the other mages. No this was different, they were barely friends, and Toriel had never come to check on how he was doing after Lilith had broken whatever spell that Chara had placed on him when they were still trapped underground. Not once had she come to see how he was doing, and Sans tried real hard not to be hurt by that.

He didn’t always succeed, and sometimes it just really hurt that someone who had been his friend just simply didn’t care about him. Cared so little in fact, that she hadn’t even checked up on him when they reached the surface. Sans tried to remind himself that they weren’t friends, that she had a kid to take care of now. 

Sans tried not to blame her; he really did. It was hard though. It was just so hard to swallow when her kid had done a number of horrible things to him when he had been a soulless little shit. It was hard when Toriel smothered Asriel with love that only a mother could possess, and all Sans could remember was Flowey holding him down while Oliva brutalized and raped him.

It was a big part of why he went to therapy four times a week instead of three. Once he had opened up to his therapist, she had been able to start to teach him to pull back his hurt to really look at the situation from an objective point of view. She was starting to help him work through his pain, but it was still too fresh. The pain of what happened, his therapy seasons, and the crack in his soul, it was all too much. It was still too close to the surface of his soul, still too raw. He was vulnerable still, and in a great deal of pain.

It wasn’t just the physical pain of his cracked soul, cracked by what Oliva had done to it, but the emotional pain of what happened. The mental torment. The heart sick betrayal hurt him so much deeper than the surface pain and embarrassment. 

Sans was sure he could be forgiven for not wanting to spend time with the kid, that he wanted to put distance between one of his abusers and the rest of his family. Yet, Toriel didn’t understand, even with the knowledge of what had happened, even a small understanding. She just couldn’t understand Sans’s anger towards the Prince, not fully. Or why Sans was nearly hostile to the idea of Frisk playing with Asriel and refused to allow Frisk to play with Asriel alone. She didn’t understand the _shame _Sans felt soul deep every time the kid was around.

Or at least she was in the dark, until Felix let is slip with blunt, angry words exactly why Sans hated the kid so much, borrowed soul or no.

Sans had been helping Frisk, Monster kid and Fuku with their math homework, helping them work through the problems slowly and ensuring they understood the problem when Toriel called. Looking back, Sans isn’t even sure how the conversation came up, and frankly Felix had been too angry to know how they had gotten to that point.

Sans remembered that the conversation had started amicably enough, Felix a little stand offish, he usually is with Toriel. Sans is part of the Den, Toriel is not and when push came to shove, battle mages protected their own before everyone else.

Sans remembers looking up when Felix’s tone took a turn towards aggressive, so much so that Sans told the kids to keep working on their math problems so that Sans could go see what Felix had so riled up. He had come into the kitchen just as Felix’s voice sneered, “Your kid helped rape him Toriel, why the fuck do you think Sans doesn’t want to be around him?”

The phone had been slammed down onto the cradle with enough force to crack the plastic, and Felix had stood still and tense at the phone while he focused on breathing slowly. The mage had his hands pressed hard into the wall, his magic flashing brightly at his fingers as Felix fought to get himself under control.

Sans watched, knew the signs from Lilith of a battle mage trying to control their vice, knew that Felix’s vice was _vengeance _and right now he was shoving that back down into its box. Knew that if Felix slipped, he would march over to Toriel’s home and likely slit the kids throat. Den always came first, and Felix had a hard time swallowing this particular pill.

Only when Felix had calmed his breathing enough to be deep, soothing breaths did he turn around, jumping back into the wall at his back when he saw Sans, and his blank, cold eyes.

Felix had cursed, feeling guilty. Toriel had wanted to talk to him, and Sans was rather over the whole fucking thing.

Yet, here was Sans. Sitting in Toriel’s kitchen, a cup of bitter tea before him while the kids were at school and her face pulled into hurt. Sans didn’t think she had the fucking right to look that hurt over the topic of discussion.

Sans took a breath and pushed that away. It wasn’t healthy to think like that, and he knew he couldn’t control how others felt. 

Sans remembered a time when they had been close, closer than friends and he knew how to make her laugh. Or, at least he had before her kid had come back from the dead with the use of the kindness soul; it made Sans angry. He remembered the little girl and her pigtails that had that soul, a sweet little thing who hadn’t deserved to die. She deserved to move on.

Instead of saying what he wanted, Sans swallowed his anger and gave Toriel a pained grin, “Soo, Tori. You, uh. You wanted to talk?” he licked his teeth, slow and deliberate, canting his head.

Something passed through her eyes, something like pain and sadness, yet a defensiveness settling in her eyes, “Yes.” Her words were small, and despite knowing better, Sans still felt his soul drop, “Sans. That wasn’t Asriel.”

Anger bubbled up from Sans’s core, hot and thick, and he swore he could taste bile at the back of his tongue. It mixed unpleasantly with his wash of hurt, and he pushed it down. This wasn’t the place to let that go, Toriel didn’t deserve his anger, “It was a version of him.” His tone was cold, and Sans dropped his gaze. He remembered his breathing exercises and tried to slow it down to keep focus. 

Toriel’s face pinched like she bit into a lemon, her violet eyes flashing in despair, “Sans. See reason.” She tries, her face is twisted into pain as well, and it reminds Sans that this situation doesn’t hurt him only, “Asriel is just a child, he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand… he doesn’t fully comprehend what he did as that monster.”

Sans practically hissed at her, his anger bubbling suddenly, and his LV burned through is bones, “He held me down Toriel. Flowey held me down for Oliva to-“ Sans cuts himself off, his throat suddenly felt thick and he couldn’t breath.

“That wasn’t him Sans.” Toriel tried again gently, and Sans wasn’t sure if she was unable or unwilling to see things from his perspective, or maybe he couldn’t see it from hers. He wasn’t sure.

She couldn’t understand the depth of his hurt and couldn’t understand why Sans couldn’t forgive Asriel. This was her kid, so naturally she would take his side, love him best. His eye-lights suddenly faded and Toriel shivered, but she didn’t give up, “Sans. That wasn’t Asriel. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry what Flowey did to you, but Flowey and Asriel aren’t the same person. You’re angry at someone who doesn’t exist anymore, and you’re taking that anger out on a child.”

Sans opened his mouth to argue back, but nothing came out, but a rough choking noise and his throat felt thick as it closed. He couldn’t do this, he _couldn’t_. He couldn’t sit here and listen to his abuser’s mother defend him, whether or not she was right. Sans had no idea if the kid and Flowey were the same person, but some part of Asriel _was_ Flowey. The worse part of him, the part that had brutalized Sans. 

This was a mistake; he wasn’t ready for this yet. He was still too angry, too raw and he hadn’t worked through enough of his anger to let it go yet. He was trying, he was, but he wasn’t there. A small part of him whispered that maybe Toriel was right, that Asriel _wasn’t _Flowey, but Sans wasn’t prepared to comprehend that idea.

_ <strike>Because if Asriel isn’t Flowey, that kid’s in just as much pain as he is, and Sans isn’t ready to cope with that yet. He’s not, and that might be something he needs to talk to Dr. Tracy about. </strike> _

Eyes still dark and empty, Sans’s face went blank as a knot of hurt twisted his soul, “This was a mistake, I gotta go Tori.”

Her eyes widened, her massive paw reaching out to stop him, “Sans wait!” but he was gone, and Sans fell through the short cut. He landed where he felt the safest, in his bed within the mage compound, behind a defensive line of shields and protective spells, and into the room he shared with Lilith. 

His breathing was shaky, hitching as he curled into a ball on his bed, his soul shuttering from the pain that he wasn’t ready to cope with just yet. He managed to get the blankets out from under him, and Sans bundled himself up in the thick comforter that smelled just like Lilith.

It reminded him of safety and home.

Sans fell asleep, curled into a ball, ignoring how his soul burned with shame and hurt.

-

Sans was barely awake when he heard the door to his room click open then shut behind him. His magic spiked, his anger feeding into it and for a horrible moment Sans felt unsafe with his back to the door.

His body was coiled tightly, ready to fight and attack when the bed dipped, and Lilith’s magic washed over him. It was a balm to his anger, soothed it and Sans was able to let it go.

She sat behind him, her hand soothing along his spine as she rubbed his back, “You okay?”

His soul twisted with a horrible cocktail of emotions that Sans didn’t know what to do with it. This was new, this burning anger, this raw hurt and he didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know where to direct it, and Sans was certain that he should probably talk to Dr. Tracy about it.

Eventually, Sans took a shaky breath and shook his head no.

Lilith’s hand paused briefly before she continued to rub his back, “You want me to kill him?” there was no hesitation in her voice, and Sans knew that if he asked Lilith would. It was so easy for her, her high LV skewing her view of the world, making violence a little too easy for her. Sans knows she tries, tries _so _hard to do the right thing and fights her instinct every day to do the right thing. She sees Dr. Tracy twice a week to help.

But it’s always there, just below the surface.

Sans snorts and pushed himself up, “No. It’s not worth it.”

Lilith hums a little, giving a little unconcerned shrug, “It would be easy.”

Sans gives her a bitter smile, and it would be so easy for Sans to say yes. It would be so easy to not care that this would hurt Toriel, but it would hurt Lilith too, on some level and she doesn’t need the LV on her soul, “We aren’t murdering Asriel.”

Lilith sighed, exaggerating her eyeroll, “Well, I’m all out of ideas then.”

“And I thought that Felix was the murder mage.” Sans grinned at Lilith, but the anger in his soul wasn’t soothing out, and it left him agitated. 

Lilith shrugged again, unabashed, “Eh, if the situation calls for it.”

Sans snorts. Lilith is controlled, was extremely controlled underground and its easy to forget that Lilith had earned her moniker of Death for a reason. It was easy to forget that she was the consequence for harming a Den mate. “Lilith?” his hesitant tone makes her frown, and she tilts her head, “What if they’re right? What if Asriel isn’t Flowey?” his throat feels thick, and his soul feel exposed.

Lilith pauses, opens her mouth and closes it again, and chooses her words carefully, “Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. But in all honesty Sans? He’s hurt you enough, you can’t let him keep doing it. It’s up to you if you forgive him or not.”

He licked his teeth and pushed himself up further so that he could twist around to lean into Lilith’s side, “Does. Does Frisk every say anything?” everything was confusing. His soul twisted with anger and pain, and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Lilith sighed and leaned into him, “She says he’s sad a lot of the time. She thinks he regrets everything that he did as Flowey.” Lilith gave a little shrug, and his head lifted with the motion, “Maybe he is a creature to pity. Maybe its all a ruse, I don’t know.” Sans frowns and presses into her side a little more, “But what I do know, is that he’s Frisk’s friend, and I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when they say he’s not Flowey. Sloan thinks it might be true, so I’m willing to let him have a single chance.” That hurt’s Sans in a way he can’t describe, and he doesn’t understand why he hurts so much or what to do with it, “However.” That makes him look up at his mate, his soul twisting in turmoil, “If he shows even a spec of Flowey, if he hurts anyone like Flowey hurt you, I will fucking kill him.” She looks down at Sans, her face set into grim determination, “Den comes first.”

“Then why’d you offer to kill him now?” his voice is soft and hesitant, and he’s trying to hard to not feed into that anger.

“He hurt you. Full stop. Only reason I didn’t kill him underground was that Lola got to him first.” Her voice is firm, “Some part of him that is capable of doing that is still in there somewhere. And if he’s still hurting you?” Lilith shrugged, “If he’s still hurting you, all deals are null and void, and there is no mercy. Besides, dust is easy to hide.”

Sans sighed, and its stupid that he doesn’t feel uneasy with that, takes comfort that his mate would go to war for him. He doesn’t want her to, but he must be little messed up to, to find it endearing. “He’s not hurting me.” He needed to reassure her as much as himself, “He’s not. It’s everyone else. Everyone else wants me to be okay with him and keeps pushing to forgive him. But I’m not…” his anger flushed again, agitating his LV, “I’m not ready to talk to him yet, I’m not ready to forgive him. I’m just so…I’m so angry.”

Lilith nods and drapes an arm around him, “I know.” She gives him a little squeeze, “But fuck everyone else. If you don’t want to talk to him or them, don’t.”

Sans shakes his head as stupid, useless tears gather at his sockets, “I don’t know what to do with it. All this anger, this hurt. It’s bothering my LV and I don’t know what to do with it.” He almost sounds desperate, and maybe he is a little.

“Training helps me.” She says softly, “Helps me burn through my magic and anger. Helps centre myself and lets me calm down.” She pauses before she asks, “You wanna go to the yard and train a little?”

Sans thought about it, knowing it would be so much easier to lay in bed and feel poorly about himself, to stew in his pain. It was what he wanted to do, so instead Sans nodded, “Yeah.” The idea that he could burn through some of his magic, through his anger would make him feel better.

Knowing he didn’t have to hold back with Lilith would help sooth his LV and she would give him pointers to improve. Would teach him to fight like a battle mage and he wouldn’t be a victim again. She would teach him to fight to win. With a shaky smirk, he pulled her through a short cut, and to the training room.

An hour later, Sans was panting hard in the humid training room with his skull nuzzled into her belly as they lay on the training room floor. Lilith was less winded than he was, but she was still breathing hard, a sheen of sweat dripped from both of their bodies and Sans had sweat through his t-shirt.

“You’re getting better.” She said eventually, her hand soothing on his chest, stroking his sternum, “More controlled.”

Sans nodded. It was true, he was, and it helped to have someone who knew how to fight teaching him. His grin reached his eye lights when he asked, “A skele-_ton_ better?”

Lilith snorted, her hand never once stopped its gentle stroking, “Yes, Sans. A skele-ton.”

He chuckled at her, his LV soothed, and his soul pulsed softly, and he relaxed back into her.

“I was thinking of taking Papyrus and Frisk to the amusement park before winter hits fully.” Lilith said suddenly, her voice almost hopeful, “You wanna come?”

Sans paused. The idea of rollercoasters and so many people so close to him made him uneasy. He liked to be in the shadows, watch from afar, but he didn’t get to the surface to hide away, “Sure. Why not. I’m sure I can _coast _through the idea.”

Lilith sighed, but he could see her lips turn up at the pun and it made Sans feel a little better.

It helped lessen the blow from Toriel and the pain from Asriel. He had other friends in this timeline, a network of people that chose him, a group who would go to war, whose hands were covered in blood, and they were more then enough.


	7. Bang Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans was having a good day in the Market Place until someone ruins it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dear readers,
> 
> Another chapter, but please pay attention to the warnings in this one: 
> 
> WARNING: violence, death, minor gore, bullet holes, blood

It was only a matter of time before it happened. Before one of the protesters were bold enough to come into the mage’s territory with cruel intent and a bad idea. When they took that step from protesting the monsters right to live to acting on those horrible intentions.

The mage’s terrible war had ended a scant eighty-four years prior, nothing to the long-lived races of Earth, barley registered as any time having passed at all. For humans, eighty-four years was a lifetime, when the old ways were abandoned for new.

Enough time for stories of battle mages to fade into obscurity and things of myth, stories parents told their children so they would behave at night. The mages of now were very different, peaceful and cold-blooded murder wasn’t something they were capable of.

The reminder that those same, protective mages were the same in the stories was always a harsh one to the younger generation and examples needed to be made. The reminder that the stories about Death and her equally as cruel Den, were very much true and a point needed to be made.

The birds were chirping over head in the early morning sun, the fall day a little cooler and the promise of a hard winter was at hand. The forest spirits and nymphs were already preparing for winter, battening down the hatches and preparing for hibernation.

Monsters didn’t hibernate, although if you asked Papyrus, he’d likely tell you Sans developed the ability some years ago. Sans may have agreed with his brother before they reached the surface, and even now he enjoyed a good long nap. His HP was still lower then everyone else’s and he needed the extra sleep, and if he abused that privilege a little bit, no one complained. It was only the surface had just so much to do, so much to see and Sans wasn’t’ up for missing out anymore.

Sans tried not to nap as much, to get out and explore Ebott as much as possible and enjoy the surface as much as he could. The therapy helped to get his anxiety under control, and he was starting to get out around people a little more.

It bothered him a little less to be out in the crowded marketplace in the mid morning, surrounded by humans and creatures doing their morning shopping and it bothered him less with the sheer amount of resources were on the surface. He tried not to think about how they were all verging of starving down below, or what he might have done to keep his brother safe.

Sans pushed that all away and hummed over the fruit at the vender’s stall calm and content, having a good day; it wouldn’t be much longer until it was too cold to have the outdoor marketplace, and everything would be moved inside. Humans were as hilarious as they were stubborn, and simply refused to give in to nature and the cold.

A sudden tingle down his spine made Sans frown and glance around, the Judge rumbling unhappily at the sudden feel of a threat and not knowing where it was coming from. White eye-lights subtly looked around, and Sans relaxed when he saw two fey children watching him with wide, green eyes.

Sans tried push the swell of anxiety down and tell the Judge inside it was fine, these kids would still be in stripes if they had been monsters, and they were just curious. The Judge disagreed and rumbled unhappily in his soul.

Ignoring it, Sans turned his head fully to the two little girls, their shimmering wings barley long enough to give them lift to fly if they chose to; their faces sparkled with unnatural glitter and their eyes the color of emeralds in a way that only the fey could have.

They were only just old enough to be allowed to wander the marketplace on their own, and likely their parent was around somewhere; and would likely be horrified to learn that their children were staring impolitely at a monster.

Sans didn’t take any offence as he cocked his head to study them right back. It wasn’t like they had been on the surface long and their numbers were painfully low, and very likely these two children hadn’t seen a monster before now.

Whelp, that some how left Sans of all monsters to make a good impression. Good thing he was okay with kids. When he was, you know, not an executioner.

Crossing his eye-lights he stuck his tongue out at them.

He watched with amusement and a growing lightness in his cracked soul as they jerked back, a little shocked by the actions of an _adult,_ before amusement grew on both of their little faces. The smaller of the two giggled and returned the gesture; the bright green eyes crossed, and her tongue shot out at him.

They both laughed, and Sans snuffed his eye-lights and stuck his tongue out at them again; even as the Judge roiled hard in his soul, crowing about a threat.

Surprise flickered across their young faces, before they burst out laughing, their laughter high like chiming bells. Sans smiled a them, and okay that’s pretty neat that he can make kids laugh. He’s sure that this is good for monster fairy-tale folk relation stuff.

The two little girls giggled at him a little more before the older of the two looked over his head and her little face fell into shock and horror. Her little hands grasped at her sister and pulled her flush to her body, her horror fading into utter terror.

There was a moment of confusion, when Sans didn’t fully understand what he was seeing or why their reaction was like this when he heard the familiar _click_ of a hammer being pulled back. It makes him go cold as he stiffens, and the Judge vibrates with anger. Since coming to the surface and training with the mages, Sans had been exposed to a number of weapons and guns were one of those things. Sure, the mages preferred their magic, but they weren’t above reverting to human weaponry.

Sans took a breath and turned.

He couldn’t focus on the man who had the pistol, probably couldn’t have picked him out a line up with other humans with similar features; he had dark hair, he thought. Angry eyes, and a scowl. Sans thought he _maybe _could remember the man’s face, or someone with very similar features, from a report that the mages had put together about different terrorist groups who had wanted to enslave them, murder them, or hurt them in some way. Sans was certain that this man was from one of the groups that wanted monsters to be experimented on. Maybe.

Sans hadn’t known what a _vivisection _was until this group had popped up. 

The hatred that seemed to radiate off him was indescribable, so much so that Sans could practically taste it in the back of his non-existent throat. A burning intent to do harm, and this man didn’t care who he hurt. Sans felt his stomach twist and cold fear trickle down his spine. His mouth went dry as all his magic was pulled inward to his core in preparation for a fight.

He was focused on the barrel that was far too close to his skull, pointing between his sockets and the odd glimmer of the sunlight catching the steel on the side of the barrel.

Time seemed to slow down and the Judge bubbled hotly and demanded he attack; only to be pulled back when Sans remembered he was in a crowed marketplace, and he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hurt someone else. Or who the man would attack if he attacked first. Or worse, if Sans took the first shot, would he use it as leverage against the monsters.

Fine. That was fine. His magic gathered in his cracked soul, ready to sidestep into a short cut, maybe get behind him and put a bone through his knee; but a whimper reminded him that there were two small children behind him. If he dodged, they’d catch the bullet meant for him.

The Judge roiled hard, and Sans didn’t like that idea. They were kids, and he’d caused enough of their deaths underground, the guilt of those deaths kept him firmly in place.

Time sped up, and Sans heard someone scream and chaos erupted around him. It would likely alert Lilith and the others to the fact something was wrong, and when she got here…

Sans just had to buy time.

Slowly, his hands went up, “Heya buddy. You don’t want to do this, you’re gonna have a real bad time here.” He was surprised that his voice was so steady.

The man sneered, a cruel noise and Sans wished the kids were a little closer to him. If he could just grab them, he could get them all out of the line of fire, find Lilith and let his mate deal with this. Yet, the kids were frozen just out of reach and he was terrified to move back to them, afraid to set off the shaky anger from the man with a gun.

“Fucking scum.” The man hissed, and Sans thought it was weird that he noticed small things; the smell of his expensive cologne, how oddly white his teeth were, the gleam of his watch, and Sans knew this was how he would die. He was going to die at the hands of a violent bigot but protecting two little girls at his back.

Well, at least he’d do his girl proud. Lilith wouldn’t look down at him for this choice and would be so proud of him. She’d be upset at first yeah, but she’d understand. And well, Frisk was getting better at controlling her resets.

Sans squared up with the man and his gun, his shoulders back and his face twisted into a grim smirk but ready to meet his fate; he couldn’t hear the screaming and he couldn’t hear Lilith calling his name.

Not until red mist and magic pooled in front of him, taking form in front of him and Lilith put herself between a gun and Sans. Her hands were up, but not in a pose of surrender but ready to make a grab for the weapon in his hands. Her voice was hard when she snapped, “Stop.” It was cold and even and should have had him dropping the gun in fear.

Instead, the man jerked in surprise, his blue eyes widened in fear and he pulled the trigger. Sans flinched at the bang of the gun, watched as his mate jerk as the bullet lodged into her chest. Pain rippled through Lilith’s body, and the lack of adrenaline, the lack of being prepared for a physical attack sent a shockwave through her body that momentarily stunned her.

It gave Sans time to back up, getting near the two kids at his back. His soul pulsed in pain, in horror, but he knew Lilith’s healing trait would pull her back form the brink of death.

Lilith looked down as red bloomed through her shirt like some kind of awful abstract painting; she wheezed and coughed hard, bring up blood that started to drip down the side of her mouth as blood seeped into the damaged lung. _So much blood_, Sans thought horrified and afraid; it filled her lung, bubbling wetly at the wound, and her hand reached up to touch the wetness at her chest. Despite the agony and loosing her breath, Lilith’s voice was full of malice and growing anger, “You mother fu-“

Sans flinched again as another seven bangs followed the first, he grits his teeth in anger as Lilith’s body jerked with every pull of the trigger until there was an empty click. Lilith blinked down at the holes in her body, the crimson that leaked from her, and Sans felt a flush of anger at seeing his mate hurt. Seeing her knees buckle, even when she curses her attacker, “Fucker, this is a new shirt.”

Lilith’s knees hit the ground with a grunt, catching herself with one hand and Sans gritted his teeth when he heard her gasping for breath, could hear the fluid bubble in her lungs. The Judge broiled hotly in his bones, and it made his cracked soul throb with fury.

This fucker hurt his mate, and seeing Lilith on her knees, bleeding out on the road after taking a bullet, _<strike>several,</strike>_ for him and made him see red.

Already green magic was gathering around her, closing the holes and pulling the blood from her lungs; Lilith coughed, blood expelled from her body as it was pulled from where it wasn’t supposed to be and there was a ting of a bullet hitting the pavement.

The man was trembling when he unloaded the clip, his hands shaking when he tried to get the new one into the weapon. The anger in his eyes were unreal, and it set Sans’s teeth on edge.

His eye-lights faded into nothing, and magic sparked at his fingers as his left eye erupted into strobing yellow and blue magic. He could kill this human; it’d be so easy. A bone right through his chest would end him.

But.

But that would only feed the fire, give the protesters reason to hate them more and make this fucker a martyr, better to let a human end him. 

It didn’t stop Sans from summoning a bone and sending it upward through his arm pit and through the top of his shoulder. The summoned attack tore through muscle and bone, severing his arm from the rest of his body, and had they not been in life or death situation his facial expression would have been hilarious.

His expression changed from shocked to horror to terror and pain. Agony caused his face to scrunch before the screaming started, stumbling back away from his mate and his severed arm. Blood spurted from his empty shoulder, spattering hotly onto the street around Lilith, and Sans narrowed his eyes coldly, stalking forward.

Lilith spat a clot of blood onto the pavement, ignoring the severed arm that clung to the pistol and pushed herself to her feet. She spat another bullet out as Sans stepped up next to her, the Judge purring as he stared at the man before them. He glanced up at her, at the fury in her face as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before he turned his attention back to the man still screaming about his arm.

Sans could _feel _the horrible thing he had done, could sense his intent and knew that he wouldn’t have stopped at Sans. He would have happily murdered those two little girls that he had laughing only a little while ago.

Lilith’s eyes glanced to Sans, and he met them as they flooded black with rage, and for one terrifying moment their anger beat as one. Sans knew what she was going to do before Lilith even summoned her sword.

It was a cold and calculated move, even as the man tried to stop the bleeding helplessly as blood was pooling at his feet. There was no hesitation from Lilith, she flicked her arm and summoned a sword, and Sans didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when she flicked her arm upward.

Sans watched with a dark smirk on his face as her blade cut through him, from crotch to nose, and instantly Sans felt the hatred disappear. His face went blank, and his mouth fell open before he fell apart; the left side of his body fell left and the right side to the ride, with his entrails somewhere in between.

Somewhere behind them, someone was screaming, and the chaos around them became real again. People where running, some away, some toward them to take photos, but all Sans could focus on was Lilith struggling to breath and the blood still stuck in her lung. 

She gasped for air, flicking her hand to dismiss her sword and Lilith sunk back down to the pavement, fluid bubbling in her chest as her magic pulled it from her lungs. Sans caught her before she sunk all the way to the pavement, cradling her trembling body as she swallowed back blood.

“I’ve got you Evil Mage, I got you.” Sans muttered into her hair as he sat down, holding her tightly. Angry eye lights glanced to what was left of the man who had tried to kill them, angry at himself that he didn’t react before she took a bullet. Angry that he didn’t listen to the Judge in his soul.

“This was a new shirt.” Lilith said weakly into his ribs.

Sans snorted, of course she was worried about the holes in her shirt and not her chest. “Fucker.” He muttered into her hair, just for something to say as he held her. He glanced up to see the two little girls father rushing up to them, their face full of tears and something soft settled in his chest. He’d kept them safe and that’s what mattered.

“There’s a bullet caught in my ribs.” Lilith muttered against him, and Sans felt magic sparking at his fingertips, just in case.

People are screaming and running, and Sans pulls out his phone to text Sloan. This is a PR nightmare, for sure, but this also sends a hell of a message.

Lilith coughed up another bullet, and Sans held her tightly, protective anger crackling through his bones.

This was mage territory, and everyone would do well to remember that. 


	8. When We Were Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith has another run in with Akkar. Sans, he isn't too happy about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers, 
> 
> This one was inspired by the wonderful roseyanon. I don't know if it's quite what you were envisioning, but I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> More notes at the end friends :)

Sans stepped out of the shortcut, and into their kitchen; he’d gotten a frantic text from Frisk that she had forgotten her lunch and Sans had been the only one home. Yet, being honest, even if he wasn’t home, he was the only one who could short cut home and then to Frisk’s school.

Which is exactly what he had done, a job well done, and he was the returning hero. He deserved a nap he thought, after all returning heroes often got the prizes for doing a good thing right?

So that was Sans’s plan for the afternoon; a nice long nap before Lilith got home and he’d spend the afternoon with her. They’d find something fun to do.

There was a new café in Ebott where they decorated the coffee in some kind of fancy way, and if he was being honest Sans didn’t get the whole thing. He didn’t get the craze, but Lilith wanted to go and after the whole thing with the guy that tried to kill him, his girl needed something she wanted to do. 

Sans heaved a sigh, scratched the back of his skull. The last couple’a days had been pretty shitty. The guy’s family was trying to sue the mages, mainly Lilith, for his death, and his terrorist buddies were trying to use it as a launch pad for stripping monsters of their rights. They were too afraid to challenge the mages directly and went after Sans, the easier target. 

The mages had lawyered up near instantly, Sloan arriving on scene before anyone else with Liam in tow, both had been chomping at the bit to get a hold of anyone who might have tried to screw with Lilith. Sloan had been full of rage that Sans had not seen from her even underground, furious that someone _dare _attack them in their territory. That someone dare try to kick in their front door.

If Sans was being honest, he wouldn’t put it past the mages to be ready to take on a few of his buddies and send them to their graves with their friend.

Eh, well hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but if it did well then, Sans was gonna stand with his mate and rain down hell. They’d never see him coming, launching his most powerful attack at anyone who dare harm them.

Until then, Liam was raining down legal hell and Sans was gonna do what he could to take the tension from Lilith.

Stifling a yawn, Sans wandered into the kitchen, planning on getting a glass of water and head up to have a nap when he paused. Lilith was at the table, too early in the day to be home, chin resting in one of her hands, staring at the table with her brows furrowed, frowning intently at the wood.

Ooooookay. This was weird.

Still moving with a nonchalant saunter, Sans pulled a cup from the cupboard and water from the tap. His voice was soft and purposefully conversational, “Heya Evil Mage.” Lilith heaved a sigh, glancing up looking miserable and sad, “You good?”

He didn’t like to see his girl looking so sad, so unhappy and some dirt bag did this to her.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged at him, sounding distracted and almost hurt; and nope.

Sans wasn’t gonna let this fly, “Funny.” He said lightly, taking a seat next to her, “you don’t seem fine.”

He gave her a little nudge, drawing dim brown eyes back to his sockets, her brows were furrowed with confusion, and it hurt Sans’s soul. He reached out to her, taking her hand where it lay on the table, sinking his digits between her fingers and gave her a little squeeze.

Lilith squeezed his hand back, and went back to staring at the table, and Sans wasn’t okay with this, with seeing his mate so hurt.

“Lil, don’t let what happened bother you. That guy was ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag, don’t let what happened fuck with you.” His voice was firm, and Sans believed it.

Lilith jerked up, blinking at him back at him with confusion, “Babe. No. I’m not. I legitimately don’t care about that fuck I halved. That’s not.” She paused, and confusion rippled through him and Lilith looked ashamed, “It’s nothing Sans. It’s stupid.”

Frowning at her, and he shifted to press his shoulder into hers, “That’s bullshit Lili.” Her face scrunched like she bit into a lemon, and her mouth opened to object. Sans cut her off before she could say anything, “You never think my shit it stupid. None of it, so two-way street.”

Her jaw hangs open for a moment before clicking shut, her teeth snapping together. She gives him a Look, one that Sans grins pleasantly at. He’s unaffected by her dirty look, and Lilith is the one who looks away first.

Turning her hand over so she can cling to Sans’s hand a little tighter, she pulls her chair closer to his so they can bump shoulders a little easier, “It’s stupid.” Her voice is unusual small and there’s a hurt there that makes something twist with anger in his soul.

“Lilith, c’me on. It’s not stupid.”

Her thumb brushed along the bones of his thumb, looking annoyed at herself and self conscious, “I got you a new book.” She started slowly, “It’s about constellations.” Her chin jerked towards the brown paper bag that was carefully wrapped on the table, “I thought you’d like it.”

White eye-lights glanced to the brown paper bag, and Sans grinned at the sight of it, his soul feeling soft. He squeezed her hand, quietly encouraging her to keep talking. “Akkar was weird.”

Sans sat up suddenly, his spine ridged and straight, the light from his eyes guttered out and the Judge burned through him at the _vulnerability _in his mate, “W H A T D I D H E D O?”

If there was anything that Sans loves about Lilith, it’s that she doesn’t fear him when the Judge is riding shot gun in his soul, and she doesn’t flinch at his cold words. “He didn’t do anything.” Her mouth opened, closed and opened again before she muttered, “I hit him though.”

Welp. That didn’t make Sans feel any better, not in the least. They either had to get rid of a body, and dating a battle mage, it’s not like Sans hadn’t considered that might be a possibility here on the surface. Or worse, whatever this was ended their friendship. 

“Oh yeah?” he tries to keep his voice light as the Judge eases up, and Sans can shove it back in its box, “Why’d ya do that?”

Hurt clouds his mate’s face, and there’s an odd sheen of moisture that floods her eyes that makes Sans’s magic bubble hotly.

“He. I…he just.” Confusion flooded her face and her expression crumbled, “I know when we got your telescope you were uncomfortable. I thought it was because we had just gotten to the surface, and you were still having a hard time with crowds but….”

It clicks ins Sans’s head, and he remembers the lovesick look on Akkar’s face when Lilith had been absorbed in the book of star maps, when Lilith hadn’t noticed. Sans gives his mate a little frown, and any lingering jealous from Akkar fades away at the look of utter confusion on Lilith’s face.

Akkar, had been Lilith’s friend and she didn’t have many of those.

Underground, Sans had a _reputation_, for a good time call. Lilith’s reputation during the war had been, I’ll cut you bitch. Any relationship she had, would have been a quick, desperate coupling that was only stress relief.

The mages had an on going joke of who had the _longest _relationship before they had fallen underground, and Felix had the record of twenty-two hours. It was something he was hella proud of.

But, what that meant, Lilith had never had a real relationship before Sans. She had no language or bases of flirting or what that even looked like. She had no idea that Akkar was flirting with her.

She had no idea that Akkar was in love with her.

Sans lifted Lilith’s hand to press his teeth in a soft kiss against her knuckles, and he tries to keep the tone of his voice gentle, “Lilith, Akkar’s in love with you.”

Her face does a dozen complicated micro expressions, before crumpling and one traitorous tear fell. Sans’s soul twisted and knotted, and he reached up to ineffectively brush the tear away, bones aren’t very good at absorbing wetness, “I didn’t know. We were friends. We.”

Her lips pursed and she glared hotly at the table even as her eyes went glassy, “He was my friend, but he didn’t want to be my friend. He wanted.” She cut herself off and shook her head, “How did you know?”

Sans’s permanent grin took a bitter twist, “I saw him looking at you all dopy.”

Her features darkened, and she squeezed his hand, “That must have felt like shit.” She sounds bitter and annoyed, darkening into anger.

Sans shrugged, and lingering hurt fading at the honest hurt in his mate’s face, “A little.” He told her frankly, “It didn’t feel great to see someone so pretty, so in love with you.”

Her face scrunched again, and darkened with a growing fury, “He made you feel inadequate.” She said suddenly, her tone cold as her eyes cleared, “That’s what made you question why I would love you.”

“Lil, it’s fine. It’s just, you’re the first person I’ve had a real relationship with. And. I really. I really want this to work.” And he did, he really did want this to work with Lilith.

Anger flashed through her eyes, and crimson bled into the cold brown, “I’m sorry you were made to feel like that.” She said quietly, and Sans knew that soft memory would be forever tainted now by this.

Shifting his chair so that he was facing her, Sans gave Lilith’s hand a little tug, “Hey, none of that. Babe come here.” Lilith let herself be drawn into a hug, and Sans wrapped his arms tightly around her. His hugs were sharp when she caught his floating ribs, his arms were body and hard, and he _must _give uncomfortable hugs. Yet, Lilith always clung back to him just as tightly, crushing him to her chest desperately, like she was afraid he would disappear on her. Always afraid that he would leave.

They should probably talk about that at some point.

“Don’t need to be sorry.” He muttered to her, even as Lilith huffed sadly into his shoulder.

“Thought he was my friend.”

Sans hummed, not liking the hurt tone in his girl’s voice, “Yeah I know.” He paused, thinking for a moment, “So why’d ya hit him?”

Lilith snorted, her arms snaking around him a little tighter, “Talk shit, get hit.” Sans felt his brow furrow, and it was like Lilith could feel his confusion. She gave a little huff, “He was talking shit about you. Saying that you weren’t good enough for me. That I deserved something better. Something more human.”

Sans felt an odd mixture of anger and hurt flood his soul, and it made his throat feel thick to have his own insecurities played into. 

“So, I told him he was a piece of shit, and broke his fucking nose.”

Ah, that was his girl. The knot of tension uncurled from his soul just as quickly as it set there, and Sans relaxed; when push came to shove, Lilith chose him, “I’m sorry your friend was a douche canoe.”

Lilith snorted and drew away, using the back of her hand to wipe at her wet face, “Yeah well. He was only pretending to be my friend, wasn’t he?” that hurt, vulnerable look is back even if it was tainted with anger, “I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like anyone ever just wants to be my friend. No body ever does.”

And nope, that just wont due, “Hey now, don’t think like that.” Miserable crimson eyes glance up to him and Lilith’s mouth was pulled into a hurt frown, “Undyne is your friend.” And his mate’s face softens a little, “And so is Alphys. And Papyrus.” And no doubt Paps was going to have something to say to Akkar once he caught wind that someone had hurt Lilith’s feelings by pretending to be her friend.

Lilith blinks, and softens a little more, “Yeah, I guess they are.” And it hurts Sans to hear how surprised she sounds, how surprised that someone would want to be her friend without asking anything in return.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Lilith looks up, and his grin isn’t as bitter as it was before, “I had a busy afternoon of napping planned. And, you probably had a busy afternoon of like, what? Saving the world?” Lilith snorts, and it’s at least partially true, “Lets play hookie and go to that café.”

The smile on her face is slow to grow, but Sans put it there and it feels like his soul is soaring that he made her feel better, “Yeah. That sounds like fun.”

And yeah, that’s better. His own grin a little more genuine, Sans jumps up to press a kiss to her mouth, one that was met with just as much vigour; and well, if anything went down, he’d join her in a fight. That would probably make her feel better to get into a scrap.

“Come on Evil Mage, I know a short cut.” Lilith grinned at him as he drew her into the shot cut, and Sans knew things would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> This one is a little more personal. If you've ever been the Lilith in real life, you know how much it sucks to have someone you thought was your friend actually not care about you. It's a pretty terrible feeling. If your the Akkar in this story, don't be like that.


	9. Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus aren't big fans of thunder. They go to their favorite mages to feel safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Undertale fandom you're a quiet fandom. lol, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's out early but I have a twelve days of Christmas coming up so I want to get this one done before the 13th. 
> 
> This is a little fluff piece of pure fluffy fluff. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lilith had been asleep when the lights flickered.

Sans was awake, reading the book on constellations that Lilith had bought him, and he looked up with a frown when the light over head sputtered.

Rain hit the window hard, pattering like bullets against the glass and its not the first storm they have endured, and it won’t be the last. The flickering electricity unnerved him the first time it happened, old memories of being cold in Snowdin with no power when the core couldn’t put out enough energy to reach them overwhelmed him.

The mages ensured that when the power did go out, it didn’t stay out long and they would pay whatever over time it took to get the power turned back on.

Sans was used to the power flickering, storms rolled through regularly and unconcerned he looked back down at his book. The power blinked again, and when it went out Sans sighed in annoyance. He had been hoping to finish his chapter, Lilith hoping to get more sleep while he did and breathing softly next to him.

Welp, maybe tomorrow.

Blindly, he closed his book and dropped it to the floor. He was going to roll over and sleep, curl up next to Lilith and draw her arms around him when light flashed outside. Sans froze, his permi-grin faltering and his brow furrowed. He had read about lightning but had never seen it, not yet when it was followed by the worst noise Sans had ever heard, and it had him flinching.

It was so deep, so loud it rattled the windows of their home, and it sent a shock wave through his bones. It sounded like a cave in, there was no other description for it. It was loud and horrible, and it sent a chill through Sans.

He didn’t like it and fear made his hands shake as there was another flash of light, and a boom that drove fear directly into his soul. His hands latched onto his mate, shaking her awake with both hands, and it was blind panic that drove him on.

Lilith shot awake, eyes flooded crimson, and magic at her fingers. Sans could see her magic gathering, forming into armor and swords as she shot upward, magic ready to be used to defend and kill. And that was exactly where Sans wanted to be, safety tucked away in her arms as another boom rattled the windows.

“What?” Lilith was barley awake but fully ready to throw hands, and Sans dove between her arms. “Sans, what?” she still sounded sleepy, not full awake when he buried himself into her body and clung on for all his worth.

Another boom sent another tremor through his body and panic through his soul, and he pressed his face into Lilith’s chest, his hands clinging desperately to her.

“Sans?” her voice was thick was sleep, and it took a moment to understand what was happening.

Thunder rattled the windows as a particularly massive bolt of lightning split the sky, and it drew out a startled cry from her mate.

Lilith’s arms wound around him, drawing him into her hug, pulling him into an embrace full of magic and safety, “I’ve got you.” She whispered to him, wriggling back down into their bed. On her side she pulled Sans hard to her chest, hand firm on his spine as she pet him, “I’m here. I’m right here, and I’ve got you.”

From a scientific standpoint, Sans knew what was happening. Knew it was thunder and what caused it, but the experience sent his soul fluttering in panic that drove him into the arms of his mate.

“Cave in.” he muttered weakly as a way of an explanation, the only words he could get out and he could feel Lilith nodding against his skull.

“It’s only thunder. It’ll pass.” She promised softly, “Look we can count.” There was a flash of light, and Lilith’s cool, even voice counted the seconds to when the crack of thunder had Sans flinching into her body, “It’s only thunder Sans. It’s about a kilometer away. It’s almost over us, then it will be gone.”

He tried to latch onto that, onto the fact that Lilith wasn’t afraid, and it was only a storm.

He pressed his skull into her chest and counted the beats of her heart instead. He was safe, he told himself, Lilith promised he was. 

Sans cringed, so terribly afraid as the windows rattled, and clung to his mate. Lilith continued to whisper words of love and reassurance against his smooth skull, her hands soft on his spine and her magic wrapped around them.

It wasn’t a cave in, he was safe.

-

The rap at Ryder’s door was so small, so light it almost didn’t wake him up. Years of war and being under consent threat of being murdered in his sleep had his light blue eyes snapping open, flashing a brilliant orange as his bravery soul reacted to his sudden spike of adrenaline.

It was soothed away just as quickly, and Ryder could _feel _the thunder rumble through him. He could hear the way the windows rattled, the way the rain pelted the glass and there was a spark of excitement that trembled trough him. He loved storms, and this was a dozy.

Ryder sat up, yawned deeply and scratched at the back of his head, rubbing sleep from his eyes and wondered what the hell woke him up. Thunder was something normal, something natural and Ryder could sleep through the worse storms.

No, something else woke him up.

Another, soft and hesitant rap from his door brought Ryder’s eyes to his door with a frown.

The massive mage moved slowly, old wounds pulling, the ones that had healed naturally when a healer hadn’t been around during the war. Lola had been furious when he returned home after his time behind enemy lines, always half dead, and sometimes with poorly healed injuries. The scar to his face being the most noticeable one, but he still had pain in his knee from an injury that hadn’t healed straight.

Lola had to rebreak most of his left leg to set it properly after a mission gone wrong and he’d been lucky to come home. It still ached when the weather got bad and already Ryder can feel that throbbing.

He wasn’t a battle mage, he wasn’t lucky enough to have their healing trait, oh no. He’d had the misfortune to get his mothers trait, the ability to breath life into plants. His magic laid in his ability to create illusions, usually to make himself invisible, but he could make anyone see what ever the fuck he wanted; that mixed with the fucking plant trait made for a pretty shit warrior.

Ah well, that was why he was a saboteur wasn’t he? 

Another soft rap had Ryder on his feet and limping weakly with another yawn. The storm outside was only beginning to really build, and Frisk had never been frightened of thunder; it was probably Felix wanting to drag him outside to watch the storm from the porch. Or maybe Sloan wanting someone to come with her while she caught lightning in a bottle.

After the time that she tried it on her own and nearly got herself killed, the rest of the Den had taken a very firm stance about her not catching lightning on her own. Lola had not been pleased when Sloan had been struck by a bolt of lighting and it had stopped her heart.

In all honesty, it could be anyone of his Den mates looking to play out in the storm and Ryder knew he was the reliable one. The one the others could come too with half cooked ideas and get a fully fleshed out plan from him. Strategy was his thing and it had saved him a number of times when he was behind enemy lines.

So, with the knowledge that it was likely one of his Den mates wanting to do something stupid, Ryder was surprised, <strike>and if he was being honest, pleasantly surprised and stupidly hopeful,</strike> when it was Papyrus standing at his door.

The skeletal monster was tall, but not quite meeting his height and his usual positive, bubbly nature made Ryder feel unusually soft and gooey; not something his enemies during the war would have ever thought possible. Ryder was the steady one in their Den, he was _Famine,_ the cold-blooded killer who poisoned water supplies and salted the earth. He caused countless deaths via starvation, and he was feared for a reason.

Yet, Papyrus wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t know the truth to be fair, and always smiled brightly at him in a way that made his Bravery soul fluff up and melt. He had asked Lilith once, what it felt like to be in love with Sans, and his sister’s face did this weird thing where it got real soft and she went doe-eyed.

An oddity to see his fierce, controlled, cold-blooded sister whose moniker was Death soften with emotion when she spoke about Sans. It had been the purist, sweetest thing even when she told Ryder that if anyone ever hurt him, she would rip their spine out to beat them with it. 

Ryder thought he felt like that but hadn’t been sure if Papyrus would have felt the same way and it never just seemed like the right time to broch the subject. Papyrus’s whole world began and ended with Sans, and Ryder got it, he did. He was the same with his brothers and sisters, they were all he had and their needs always came first.

And Sans? Sans had come to the surface so broken. He needed so much, and Ryder didn’t begrudge Papyrus or Lilith for putting so much of their time into his needs. Sans needed them, he did. Hell, Sans needed their entire Den after what happened, and Ryder had bee pleased to see that he stuck with therapy and that Felix was making a real effort to be his friend.

So, no. Ryder didn’t begrudge Papyrus for being there for his brother when Sans needed him the most.

But he just couldn’t stop the hopeful feeling that rushed through his chest, “Ah. Papyrus, everything okay?”

He frowned when the skeletal monster hunched down into himself, and his hands twisted in front of his hips. He was in his pajamas, and even the white of the fabric wasn’t as bright as the almost polished ivory of his bones, and Ryder couldn’t help but think Papyrus got prettier the longer he was on the surface.

The soft, dewy feeling was short lived when there was another crack of thunder that had Papyrus flinched into himself, his eyes squeezing shut and a small noise of fear escaped his clenched teeth. 

Oh. Oh, Ryder didn’t like that, didn’t like to see Papyrus afraid and liked it even less that he couldn’t fix it. Orange magic sparked at his fingers when he hesitantly reached out to give Papyrus’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“Papyrus?”

“I don’t.” his voice shook and was so full of hesitation, “I’ve never heard thunder before.” His voice was so small, and Ryder’s heart squeezed unhappily in his chest at the boom of thunder that had Papyrus cringing again.

He was afraid, Ryder realized, he was afraid, and Papyrus came to him. Something warm filled his soul and it almost made Ryder smile. Papyrus could have gone to any one of their Den, anyone of them would have welcomed him and made him feel safe.

Yet, Papyrus chose him.

“It’s okay.” He said softly, the rasp of his voice almost lost in the rain hitting the window, “It’ll pass.”

Papyrus nodded, and Ryder swore he could see orange magic gathering like tears at the corner of his sockets, “Ryder. Can I. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Something gooey and soft filled his war battered soul, and Ryder softened even more, “Of course.” He stepped back to let Papyrus in, frowning at the hunched position and the timid steps. Closing the door behind them, Ryder padded to his dresser as Papyrus crawled into his bed and pulled the thick blankets over him.

Pulling on a simple black t-shirt over his wide chest, he didn’t want Papyrus to feel weird that he slept half naked and the soft barrier would help, Ryder made his way back to his bed.

He was under the blankets quickly enough, but not quick enough for Papyrus; the next bang of thunder drew a soft noise from his chest, one of fear, and had skeletal hands grasping at his shirt desperately.

Ryder’s thick, heavy arms went around the skeletal monster in his bed, wrapping Papyrus in a tight, reassuring hug. Papyrus trembled in his arms, and Ryder did his best to sooth him, “Its okay Papyrus, you’re safe. And Sans is safe, nothing bad will happen. It’ll pass.”

Ryder didn’t like to see Papyrus afraid, wanted to only ever see him happy and secure. There was another bang of thunder that had Papyrus clinging to him, and a dark part of Ryder couldn’t help but be pleased that when he was afraid, Papyrus had come to him. That Ryder was safety and security, and during the war that had been the most important thing for him to ensure his Den mates had.

Ryder shoved that dark, little voice back into its box, and allowed himself to be the rock Papyrus needed.


	10. It Started as an Itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has an itch that he can't quite scratch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay friends, 
> 
> I think this is something you've all been waiting for. This is a mature, lemony-smut chapter, so keep that in mind and read the tags :) 
> 
> Let me know if you like it!

It was an itch, that was the best way Sans could describe it.

An itch just below the surface, just under his bones where he couldn’t quite reach it. Like a slick heat that no matter how many times he took himself in hand, Sans just couldn’t get it to dissipate; more then once Sans had woken from a dead sleep, pressed into Lilith’s muscular body, itchy and sweaty, and hard between his legs.

Sometimes, rarely yet, he would wake up feeling slick and empty, but still couldn’t bare to touch himself. Even now, even with the weeks that had passed, even with the therapy; the moment his fingers brushed at his slick entrance, he would seize up and panic. Any wetness drying nearly instantly at the gentle probing of his phalange.

His cock, however, didn’t have the same reservations and no matter how many times he tried to take care of it himself, he never found himself satisfied.

It was because it wasn’t Lilith that was touching him, that’s what Sans was waiting for. He wanted _her _to touch him like that, he wanted _her _to find him desirable. He wanted her to want him.

Yet, Lilith wasn’t making the move. Never one to push him into something that might make him uncomfortable or unsteady. Never one to demand anything he wasn’t ready to give willingly, and he was grateful for that. Truly, he was.

It was just.

_ <strike>He just wished she would pin him down and fuck him already. Hell, he knew what his kinks were, had been comfortable in his own bones at one point and wanted to get back to that. He would be more then fine to let Lilith do what ever her determined little soul desired, and he was more then happy to let her use him. Hell, he wanted her to. He wanted her to make him beg, he wanted her to tie him down, fuck he wanted to…</strike> _

He wanted to be more intimate with his mate. That seemed like a good place to start.

Limp and boneless, Sans lay weakly against Lilith with his chest pressed into hers, his face pressed into her collar bone, his teeth parted as he panted softly.

His sockets were half lidded, as soft pleasure, comfort washed over his bones; his soul was still in Lilith’s hands as she carefully untangled their souls from the healing session.

She was breathing a little harder as well, not nearly the hot, humid breath that he was panting into her skin, but still harder. With his face pressed in so close to her chest, he could feel her heart racing, her magic humming under her skin and the thin sheen of sweat coated her soft, lightly scared skin.

Healing sessions were usually intense and were growing more so as Sans’s soul was knit back together, and he was able to take more magic from Lilith; he grew more sensitive as the thick, ugly crack was slowly mended. The last few sessions Sans had been able to really feel _Lilith_ when their souls met, meshed in hot, slick pleasure, and it had caught him off guard when he didn’t hurt anymore. The crack in his soul was smaller and growing smaller each time they did this, and Sans was starting to feel everything again. 

Shifting uncomfortably, Sans tried not to cringe at the sweat heavy on his bones that caused his t-shirt to stick to his ribs and magic gathered heavily in his pelvis; swirling unformed and thick, that in of itself far too sensitive for his own good.

He was hot and bothered, an odd side effect, a quirk, of the healing sessions and he was too much a coward to tell Lilith when she had no idea.

Lilith gave her own soft sigh of pleasure, one that only further thicken the magic between his legs, as her soul slowly detangled from Sans’s; he swallowed the groan when the lush heat from her soul left his, the pleasure of having her so close to him almost too much with the slick slide of her soul over his.

The sensation is gone in the blink of an eye, and Sans is left panting and wanting, and he could see a cold shower in his future very soon. Any moment now, Lilith, completely naive to what she was doing to him, was going to let go of his soul to allow him to dismiss the magic that held him together.

She did every time, as soon as the healing session was done, and Sans quietly mourned the loss of contact. Even when she held him when it was all done, it wasn’t what he wanted.

_ <strike>He was ready for that next step, he was! He just … didn’t know how to broach it with Lilith. </strike> _

His breathing slowed, and he prepared himself to dismiss his soul, when Lilith chose a different path. It was unexpected and off script. Sans jerked against her when her thumb brushed along the silvery blue appendage, sending hot pleasure down his spine.

He gasps against her, his hands catching hold of her shirt, and she fucking humms softly, like she has no idea what she’s just done to him. It takes effort to peel his eyes open, to look at her curious, beautiful face and her brown eyes sparkle in happiness.

Sans fights to stay as still as possible; Lilith has no idea what she’s just done to him.

Her thumb brushes along the sensitive crack in his soul, and her voice is painfully soft, “You’re looking so much better Sans.” And her thumb presses softly, <strike>too softly,</strike> along a portion of the healed crack, along the crimson scar where Lilith’s magic has stained his soul red and it’s the only pretty thing left about his soul. Or at least Sans thinks so.

“Two, maybe three more months of healing, and you’ll be all better.” He’s never heard her sound to innocent, so completely unaware as to what she’s doing to him, and Sans almost wants to laugh.

Her thumb pressed into the cleft of his soul, and Sans can’t stop his body from thrusting into hers, his magic hardening between his legs and he tried to muffle his cry of pleasure.

Lilith freezes as Sans clings to her, eyes suddenly wide in surprise and there is a low, pink blush that is spreading slowly across her face, “Sans, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” There’s an edge of horror in her tone, shock Sans thinks.

Stunned eyes glance at his swollen soul and the silvery liquid that is starting to gather along the dry surface, and Sans has no doubt she can feel him pressed into her. He should feel embarrassed by this, <strike>but he doesn’t, Lilith had seen him at his weakest, drugged and his body wrecked and defiled, </strike>he wants this to happen.

“I didn’t mean.” She looks horrified, “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve been through. I don’t want.” She sighs, and even in his addled state he can see the conflict, “You’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want you to feel forced.”

Despite the hazy, delicious heat that fills him, Sans’s feel his soul warm as she tries to gently hand back his soul to him; she’s bounced the ball back into his court, and the decision is totally his.

Blinking up at her, Sans feels the heat in his body begin to grow at that honest reaction. Lilith doesn’t want to hurt him, and fuck if that doesn’t make him want her more. His fingers are trembling when he curls his hand around hers, and _gently_ pushes his soul back towards her, “Keep going.”

If his voice is raw and full of want, Lilith doesn’t make mention of it, but she catches her lower lip in her teeth, and he can see her resolve wavering. Crimson magic flood her eyes, and her magic flares with her _want. _Lilith _wants _to do this too, wants to taste that pretty blush that is spreading across his face and down his throat, she wants to make him moan and cry out her name. She wants him to do the same to her. 

Still, her voice is hesitant, “You sure? We don’t have to. We can stop.” Because Lilith would never hurt Sans. She was there when it happened with Oliva, had picked up the pieces they had left behind and supported Sans while he rebuilt himself.

His grin is shaky, and she’s holding his soul like it might crack. <strike>To be fair, it might. He’s the broken one here, the one who was violated, so he might just fucking break. </strike>

<strike>At least Lilith will put the pieces back together. </strike>

He’s shaky when he nods yes, but the yearning is doused a little from her eyes. She shakes her head no, and her voice firm, “I need verbal confirmation.”

His face is pressing back into her collar bone, but he manages to unknot his tongue enough to muttered hotly against her skin, “Yes. Please. Keep going.” 

It doesn’t seem to be enough; Lilith frowns down at him, caught between her own selfish want and what Sans needs. She doesn’t want him to regret this, and she doesn’t want to set him back, her own doubt cooling her own growing wetness between her legs.

She can feel Sans trembling against her, even as she coolly holds his soul in her hand and she can feel the heat from the organ, the warm slick fluid that has started to drip from it.

“You need to promise.” With his soul in one hand, she held out her opposite hand with her pinky extended.

Some how, Sans manages to lift his head to glower at the offending digit, even as he trembles and thrusts ever so gently against her hip. A pinky swear is practically a blood oath to him, and she must be real serious if she’s pulling out the big guns for this.

“If I do something you don’t like, you tell me. If you want to stop, you tell me. Promise.” Her voice is firm and cold despite the heat between their bodies. It’s the same monotone, no nonsense voice that Lilith uses to bark orders during conflict, and Sans knows there’s no way around it.

Slowly, his own boney (heh) pinky wraps around hers and he gives her hand a little shake, “I promise.”

It seems to be enough, or at least what Lilith needs as the fire returns to her eyes and the liquid heat between her legs. And fuck, if Lilith is turned on by consent, Sans has hit the fucking gold mine.

“Okay.” Her tone is a little more breathless, “How do I do this?”

Sinking back down into her body, Sans wraps his arms around her and clings to her shirt, “Just keep doing what you were doing before.”

Settling back against the head board, Lilith’ glances to Sans as he clings to her, panting hotly against her; her other hand comes up to cup his soul in both of hers, and hesitantly Lilith presses her thumbs so very gently on either side of the crack in Sans’s soul.

Pleasure, hot, heady pleasure spread through him like a bolt of lightning, his body spasming against her and he gasped against her skin. Awe rocked Lilith at his reaction, feeling Sans tremble against her as arousal burned through him. 

It made her own want burn through her, knowing that she drew that response from him, and it made her mouth water. Her tongue peeked out as she licked her lips, and anticipation grew when she did it again. She pressed her thumbs into his soul, drawing a cry of pleasure from him and Sans quickly tried to muffle it by pressing his mouth into her shoulder.

Arousal rocked through Lilith, and she grinned at him, “Oh no love, I wanna hear you.” She whispered against the side of his skull.

Sans panted softly, barely nodding in agreement before Lilith managed to maneuver him, so he lay back against her, his back pressed into her chest and his femurs splayed wide. Lilith settled around him, one hand held his soul while the other slid up his t-shirt to press her thumb into his sternum.

Sans threw his head back with a soft cry of pleasure, thick and heavy as Lilith pressed her thumb _hard_ into the clef of his soul as she wrapped her hand around his floating rib. She manipulated his soul softly, the pad of her thumb rubbing hard little circles as she pumped his floating rib.

His hands clamped onto her knees, grasping at her loose pants when he cried out again as pleasure began to quickly build, and Sans knew that he should be ashamed. That this was too easy, and he was climbing way too fast to climax as Lilith touched him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

She made soft, pleased noises behind him, her touches becoming more confident as she stroked him, as her nails scraped the inside of his ribs and the fluid dripped heavily from his soul. His breathing hitched as Lilith cuddled in close to him, and her tongue licked a hot, wet strip at his vertebrae, the tip of her tongue dipping between his vertebrae to lick at the soft magical cushion between his bones. Static filled her mouth as she tasted Sans’s magic, and they both groaned at the sensation. 

That sent another bolt of pleasure though his body, and his spine bowed as he arched painfully into her touches, drawing a pleased humm from his mate. Fingers danced down his rib before her hand wrapped around his spine to give a gentle squeeze.

He trembled at her touch but had been unprepared for when she lifted his soul to her mouth, her tongue hot as she licked at it, the tip of her tongue dipping into the crack of his soul. His magic filled her mouth, full of life and static, and it filled her with warmth. The heat filled Sans’s body, his bones felt super heated, but the moment she nipped at his soul, sucked at the curve, Sans felt his body stiffen before he cried out.

Silver gushed from his soul, coating her hand as he came hard; his spine arched and his skull thrown back, Sans cried out his release. Lilith’s eyes went wide with aroused shock, feeling hot and wet between her legs.

She held him as he came, gentling him as his bones trembled with soft hands and a gentle voice, soothing him.

“Fucking Fates,” Lilith whispered into the side of his skull, “Sans your beautiful.”

“Debatable.” He rasped, his eyes heavily lidded as he fell limply in her arms, breathing hard.

Pressing a kiss to the side of his skull, her hand still softly pumping at his spine; fuck he was sensitive, reacting fucking beautifully to every touch, every carful caress.

<strike>If Lilith could kill Oliva again, she would for what the hare had done to her mate. That monster had hurt her funny, beautiful mate and hadn’t deserved to fucking touch him. Sans didn’t deserve to be hurt like that, he didn’t deserve to be treated like he had. And come hell or high water, Lilith was going to do right by him. </strike>

She nuzzled sweetly into the side of his skull, nosing softly at the bottom part of his jaw, peppering kisses along his throat and mandible, “You did so well.” She praised softly, her thumb still brushing softly at the warm, silver liquid over his soul, “So responsive.”

Sans hummed quietly, turning into the kisses and praise, his words rough with his own amusement, “Heh, had a good driver.” He chuckles at his own joke as Lilith snorts. Licking his teeth, he gathered his courage to catch her wrist to carefully unwind her fingers from his spine. He managed to peel his eyes open to catch the bright crimson of hers, full of love and want for him; and it eased any of the linger anxiety Sans may have had as he drew her hand lower.

There was a brief moment when confusion flickered through her eyes before she understood when the tips of her fingers brushed at the tip of his hip. Sans hesitated then, his teeth parted as he panted softly, and he hoped Lilith wanted to…

Her fingers brushed at the side of his ilium before her hand dipped past the waist band of his shorts to brush at the harden length between his femurs. Sans groaned, his hips jerking into the touch and his eyelids sunk shut.

Her thumb brushed at his soul again, finding that sweet spot at the cleft of his soul and her clever fingers brushed up the length of his shaft before her hand wrapped around him softly. Sans felt his breathing hitch again, his hips jerking into her touch and he gasped when her thumb pressed softly into the slit at the head of his cock.

He went limp against her when her hand pulled downward in a gentle stroke. Her hand came back up just as quickly, sending another shiver through Sans, and he moaned uncaring when Lilith pressed into the sweet, lovely spot in his soul.

Her hand pulled down again, and when Sans pressed back into her, he felt delight wind through him when she pressed back towards him.

Still clutching the base of his cock, her fingers explored his body a little more, brushing at the slick, empty entrance he hadn’t realized he had summoned.

Sans froze, like he had been spiked into cold water and he was jerking away from her touch, his voice hoarse and hurt when he yelled, _“Stop!” _

To his utter relief, Lilith did. She went still behind him, her fingers pausing, then retreated as she pulled her hand from his pants. She held his soul but didn’t touch him any more like she had and only wrapped her arm around his chest to hold him tightly.

“It’s okay.” She whispered into his skull instantly, pushing as much positive, loving intent into him as she could, even when his throat felt thick and his soul raw.

Tears, stupid, hot shameful tears, prickled at his sockets, and he jammed his sockets shut, “Sorry.” He groused, feeling ashamed, “I should be over this.” He had all but gasped. 

Lilith squeezed him tightly, and the stupid words just wouldn’t stop tumbling out from his mouth, even when he wished it would just stop, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to summon that. That was stupid, so fucking stupid.” He pressed his thighs together tightly, and the hardness from his body softened as shamed filled him, and he wished he would just stop talking but it was like a dam had been broken, “I’m sorry. Sorry. That was stupid, I don’t know why I summoned it. So fucking dirty, fucking stupid.”

Lilith’s heart squeezed at his words, and her vice bubbled like acid under her skin, every ounce of LV inside of Lilith was demanding blood. Demanding vengeance, needing retribution with no where to aim it. The ones who did this, the real ones who hurt Sans were long dead or banished. Nothing more then dust in the wind and a bad memory.

She squashed it ruthlessly, shoved her vice back into its box and into a dark place to be sorted through later. Right now, Sans needed her, needed to be reassured and comforted, he needed to be loved. He needed her to tuck him safely amongst the soft folds of the blankets of their bed and her raw power.

She pressed a soft kiss against the smooth bone of his skull, her touches becoming more innocent as she pet his sternum through his shirt, her voice firm but full of love, “You’re not dirty Sans. You’re not.” Her words countering his as she crushed him to her chest, held him tightly and didn’t dare let go, “I love you.” 

Shame filled him, and Sans cringed inwardly, hating that he felt like this but thankful that he didn’t need to explain it, Lilith had been there. She had seen it all, had seen him at his weakest moment and held him just as sweetly, with just as much protective intent.

It took time, a long time for his soul to dissipate, longer still for Lilith to settle him back into the soft blankets of their bed, full of shame and self hate.

It was hours later by the time Lilith had calmed him down from his fear, her hand comforting on his smooth bones, her voice soft against his skull to give soft praise and voicing her love for him. It lessened the panic, washed away the hurt in his soul but it didn’t make Sans feel any better.

He couldn’t voice how broken he felt, couldn’t bare the pity from Lilith or the hurt that would cloud her eyes. They lay in a tangle of limbs that clung together other tightly, Lilith clinging to him just as tightly as he held onto her. His magic still hot and heavy in his pelvic girdle, mocking him and his reaction.

He was still filled with arousal, and love for Lilith. He wanted her, he did. He wanted her to want him.

But she did, didn’t she?

They were warm and safe in their bed; likely the safest place Sans could be. Nothing was getting to him when he was feeling poorly without getting through Lilith first. She’d shank them faster then she cut that fucker in half in the marketplace.

He was safe here.

He was loved here.

“Lili?” he feels sleepy and warm, limp against his mate and painfully hard despite the emotional drain.

“Hmm?” she’s just as soft as he is, warm wrapped around him.

“I want to try again.” It takes more courage then he thought he possessed, and it draws Lilith back up onto an elbow.

Her face is pulled into an expression of concern, “Are you sure?”

Pushing himself up, he nodded almost desperately, “I need to remember,” he breaths softly, “That it’s fun. That it can be good, that it doesn’t have to hurt.” He needed to reclaim himself, reclaim his pleasure.

Lilith’s face softened, and she only hesitated a moment before her voice is soft, “Same rules as before?”

There’s a moment that Sans can’t believe that she might just do this, and it has Sans nodding, “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t like something.”

Lilith nodded slowly, her hands soft on his face to cup his cheeks and he presses up to a soft kiss.

It’s a slow process. They take their time to explore each other’s bodies, moving at each of their paces. Neither pushing or demanding, just a slow ebb and flow of kissing and touching. There was no desperate need, no fast pace that left their head spinning.

Just slow, deep kisses and striping each other of their clothing so they could touch more freely. Listening to each other’s soft breathing and begging; by the time Sans sunk slowly, so very softly into Lilith’s warm, slick body, allowing himself to be enveloped by velvety heat, the memory of their first attempt was long gone. Replaced instead by soft, hazy pleasure and heat. 

Lilith sighed softly into his bones as he panted hotly into her skin, and Sans loved her so much.

They made love softly in their bed, gentle and unhurried, and Sans knew what it felt like to be loved. 


End file.
